Ghost Rider
by Kandaluvr
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is an English doctor who found a better opportunity for success in the distant lands of America- land of the Indians and Wranglers. But when he comes to his first town, he finds that a mystery has it shrouded in flames and terror. But trouble never seems to be far from the town's own Sheriff. Could this Sheriff, this Alfred F Jones, know more than he lets on?
1. Chapter 1

Cerulean eyes peered out over the canyon that framed a desert. A large, red, handkerchief covered the rider's face and protected it from burn and sand. A silver badge flashed in the intense sun while a restless, black horse pranced nervously beneath his rider. A gun was strapped to either of the man's sides, while a large hat blocked the sun from his vision. The leather chaps that lined the man's muscular legs flapped slightly in the hot breeze that blew through, and the echo of silence filled the air, while vultures circled off in the distance, waiting for a fresh meal.

Sherriff Alfred F Jones sighed, packing away the small seeing glass he had been peering through. "No sign of 'em boy. We'll have ta keep watch until mornin' again." The southern accent shone through strongly as he leaned down, patting the large horse's neck, who snorted in response and backed away from the edge of the great cliff in front of his hooves.

Alfred sighed again before turning the great creature around with a pull of the reigns. But he chanced a look up at the setting sun again before trotting off, humming a tune along to the words that ran through his head.

**_Yippie yi Ohhhhh ~_**

**_Yippie yi yaaaaay _**

He looked up again.

**_Ghost Riders in the sky~_**

* * *

Arthur groaned heavily as the boat sloshed once again in the deep blue of the sea. He was lying flat on his back, atop a pile of crates and fishnet, whilst fishermen and sailors scurried about him in preparation for docking. He loathed the sounds they made as the boat rocked, but at the same time, those sounds meant that they were almost to their destination: Philadelphia.

It had been a long trip, and Arthur had even begun to wonder if it was worth it. And he still had a long way to go. He was to land at Delaware, and then get a carriage to take him to the next town over, where he would be picked up and escorted to a place called Nashville, Tennessee by the Sherriff of the said town, by train of course.

Of course, Arthur didn't really know much about America and its ways, only that it was dusty, dirty and needed a lot of help in the medical area. That's where he came in. The doctor was well trained and had finally found opportunity to put that practice to good use.

The doctor sat up and took out a small notebook, pulling a piece of charcoal from his coat pocket as he did so. He opened to a blank page and began to write.

_June 15__th__, 1846_

_We are about to port at Delaware within the hour. I am quite anxious to land, for I am weary of the sea and constant tales of spirits by the crews men. Of course I know they are real, and I suppose that is all the worse for me to keep in mind. I do not wish for a siren to come and take our souls or whatnot while the men drink and make merry- as they put it- that frog had better be grateful when I arrive in Tennessee. I will be quite cross by the time I arrive there if the trip keeps going at this rate. And I can only hope that the Sherriff will not be as rude and uncouth as the sailors upon this ship._

_Arthur Kirkland_

The blonde man sighed and tucked the small book away, noticing one of the young cabin boys watching him from another pile of crates.

"Best watch who you stare at lad, your eyes may burn from your sockets." He said jokingly, remembering the way his brothers had said that all of the time growing up.

The young child blinked a few times, a scowl emanating from his brow and downturned lips. "Well that's a stupid rule." He said, leaning forward and resting his head in his palms. "Why would my eyes burn out of my head if I stare?"

Arthur thought about it a moment, debating on whether he should joke about the sailors silly stories about spirits and whatnot. "Well that is a good question, isn't it?" he finally settled with. "What's your name?"

"What kind of business is it of yours?" The boy said, sitting up straight again, standing as if to leave. But he was cut off as the captain of the ship suddenly appeared.

"Oi! Lovi! What are you doing up there? Go down and help your brother prepare for port!" He called. But the boy just huffed angrily, muttering something in another language. "Lovi! Listen to me-si?"

"I told you not to call me that, stupid!" He groaned angrily as the captain pulled him down from on top of the crates and set him on his feet so he could stand on the solid (or at least as solid as it got on the sea) ground.

"Do as you're told and I won't!" Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo said with a sigh, watching him stalk off.

_What an unruly child. _Arthur thought. "Sorry about him… I just don't know how else to get him to do anything." The captain said. "Are you feeling any better?" Arthur wondered at the man's sort of split personality. He had noticed that around the men and crew, the captain was a ruthless man, none too quick to use his whip to lash them into sense. But around that boy, he was an almost fatherly man. Strange.

"Ah- yes. I am… thank you." Arthur said with a small frown.

"It's just a matter of getting your sea legs under you!" the man laughed. Arthur faked a smile as well, hoping the man would leave soon. He- for some reason- didn't much feel too comfortable around him. Something about the man's aura seemed off. He wasn't positive exactly what it was, but he wasn't going to try and find out either.

"Well you just sit back and we should be landing any moment now." Antonio said, reaching into his pocket and looking at the compass he pulled out.

"Thank you." Arthur said again as the captain left, coat swishing behind him as he walked and leather boots thumping powerfully and steadily upon the moving wood beneath him. Arthur respected the man, yes, but he still didn't like him.

* * *

**Hello All! Thank you for reading! **

**I've wanted to do this story for SOOOOOOO long. I just haven't had the time till now! Enjoy and please tell me what you think so far!**


	2. Chapter 2

The sun blared above him as Arthur stepped off of the locomotive and onto the dirty ground beneath it. The wood creaked on the stations entrance and Arthur stretched his neck to the side as he looked around the small shack. There wasn't much to the station, as what was expected. Most of what he had heard about the place was that it was simple, but thriving on farmland and livestock. But the lack of a doctor had left them with a problem with sickness. That's why the green-eyed Brit was sought out.

"Where is that sheriff?" He mumbled to himself. "I thought he would be here by now." He took out his pocket watch and glanced at the time. Half past noon. The train seemed to have arrived slightly early. No wonder he couldn't see any sign of the man with the badge. Sighing, he set his small suitcase down and sat on a creaky bench, groaning slightly as he stretched his legs and arms. It seemed that he was far more tired than he had guessed before, because he fell asleep almost instantly.

"Partner? Y' okay?" A voice swam around in the doctors hazy head as he stirred to wakefulness. Green pools blinked open slowly, and after a few reps, Arthur's vision cleared up enough to make out two, deep blue eyes filled with a sort of concerned liveliness.

"Ah! Sorry- I must have fallen asleep…!" Arthur jumped a bit at the sudden appearance of the young man, of whom he finally examined for the first time.

He had- as noticed in the first moment- clear blue eyes and sun-kissed skin that complimented his dirty blonde hair. A white shirt was covered by a leather vest, both covered in a layer of dusty earth and spatters of mud, as if he had run through the desert and back through a storm. In fact- he was soaked to the bone. The poor man looked like he had been dipped in a freezing cold river. His clothes clung to his arms and chest, and quite possibly made it hard to walk in the fashion that they stuck to his legs and calves.

Also- there was a shining, silver badge on the chest of his vest that sparkled under the drops of water that dripped off of it, the word "Sheriff" glistening in the dim light of the room.

"Oh! You must be Sheriff Jones!" The doctor exclaimed, sitting up fully off of the bench that he didn't remember falling asleep on. "I'm sorry! I didn't-"

"It's alright partner." The young man laughed, a boisterous sound if Arthur had ever heard one. Almost irritating actually. "After a trip like that I'd be sleeping like a horse. Assumin' yer the doctor Kirkland we've been expectin'." Yes, Arthur decided. Irritating.

Arthur tilted his head to the side. "Yes. That's me, but how would you be able to sleep standing up?"

The sheriff looked at him for a moment, trying to dissect whatever he had just said. "What?"

"You said you would sleep like a horse." Arthur deadpanned, as if pointing out the obvious.

That almost annoying laughter filled the small room again as the American laughed. Almost doubling over he laughed like he had never heard anything as funny as he just had in his life.

"Oh! I'm sorry… I- it's just I never really thought about it like that!" The Sheriff wiped a small tear from the corner of his laughing blues. "I think we'll get along just fine Doc." He said, slapping the said man's back in the process, leaving behind a damp hand-print. Arthur grimaced and wiped his shoulder as best he could with the limited access he had to it.

"Yes, well shall we be off? Or is it too rainy out for us to go?" Arthur asked with a yawn and a small stretch of the arms. He hadn't felt this sore in years… not since he had been forced to work on a pirate ship that one time. (He still hated sea travel to this day because of that) He had never traveled this much in one go before. It was positively murder to his back and neck. Sleeping on a bench for who knew how long didn't help much either.

"The rain might not stop for another two or three days." Sheriff Jones sighed. "But Luck would have it, I brought an extra cloak, so it should keep ya dry if you wear both of em." He explained, holding up a leather bag to further his explanation.

"And you?"

"Eh- I'm already wet as a washboard partner. Might as well just get back while we can." He said, pulling the cloaks out of the bag. "See- this here station is at the bottom of the ravines and it floods really bad if it rains too much. There was already some fair amount of water piling up there when I came in ten minutes ago. But by now it could be worse. And ol' Avenger is big and all- but he don't like the rain none." The Sheriff said with a frown. "So we'd better get trekkin'."

"Ah- yes. Of course… Sherrif" Arthur said, not voicing his fears of riding a giant beast- with the name of _Avenger_ no less! With a man he has known for about a span of five minutes, on the strange horse named Avenger. In a rainstorm that may well flood over the valley that they were _supposed to ride through_ in a storm. _On said horse. _**_With the strange man on the strange horse in the strange valley that may flood and drown them. _**Not a combination he was really quite fond of.

"alright Partner. Let's get goin'. Oh- and you can call me Alfred." He said, opening the door. Arthur felt a strange jolt in his gut, as lightning flashed while the young Sheriff spoke. He noticed a sort of thinness to the Sheriff's face when that white, hot light filled the room. Almost like his cheekbones were poking out and his eyes were sunken. But when it went away, nothing unusual was there, just a healthy looking, soaking wet, blue eyed Sheriff named Alfred. Arthur shook his head. Just a trick of the light.

"Of course."

* * *

"How much further until Nashville?!" Arthur called back to the sheriff. He was seated in front of the taller man on a horse that he swore up and down was as large as the building they had been sheltered in not an hour before. Rain pelted the two of them relentlessly and the green-eyed doctor could do was keep his head down and stay as dry as the two thick cloaks would allow. The sheriff on the other hand was taking the full brunt of the storm, but didn't seem fazed by it in the least.

Alfred didn't look back down at him as he urged Avenger- a large black horse with a white diamond on his enormous nose Arthur had found- to go faster. The draft horse – if Arthur had heard Alfred's gushing about his horse correctly- was incredibly strong and fascinated Arthur. He had never seen such a large and beautiful creature such as Avenger before. His muscles rippled with each stroke of its long legs, plowing through the valley and dirt with ease, ignoring the rain that pounded back in the torrential battle of heaven and man.

Arthur had just begun to feel safe with the two, who seemed to know what they were doing quite well in his opinion (A trait that valets and sailors had lacked up to this point in his journey) when a loud roar suddenly filled his ears behind him. He gulped and dared a glance behind them, and fought down a squeak of fear with every shred of pride he had. A huge- and by huge he meant that Poseidon himself might have created it- wave of water had wound itself around the mountain that was just a few miles off. He saw the valley that he and the Sheriff had been in less than an hour ago simply fill with water, possibly crushing everything there that had ever stood. Station included. But it didn't stop there. The wave was crashing about behind them, following with its maws of suffocating death roaring its threat.

Arthur felt the young man shift his weight behind him to look behind them and then a curse escape his lips in a warm breath.

"Flash flood." He muttered. "Hold on partner. We're in for a heck of a ride."

* * *

**OH noes! Flash floods suck. I should know. :D What do you think? **


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur couldn't see them underneath the thick cloaks that the Sheriff had provided him with, but he was sure his knuckles were whiter than exposed bone. He was gripping the saddle so tightly that his hands hurt and his eyes were wide with fear. He would never say it, but those weren't only raindrops pouring down his face. Tears had long started falling in his utter fear of this attack by mother nature.

He had seen floods before. Obviously. He lived in Britain for the majority of his life. But he was always in the safe confines of his home when they happened, blocking out the water with thick cloth and mopping the floors. He had been stuck in many sticky situations, but none of them had been so immediately life-threatening. And it scared him more than he would ever admit to anyone. Except maybe the Sheriff, who had just put his hands on his shoulders.

"Alright partner. Here's what's going down. I need t' be in the front to get Avenger to do what I need. So I need you to hang onto my arm, and swing yerself around to behind me!" He shouted over the roar of the rain and the waterfall that was getting closer. Arthur felt his green eyes nearly pop out from his sockets.

"You want me to _what?!_" he screeched. "Are you mad?"

"I aint mad at all partner, just trying to keep us alive! Now grab my arm! Hold on tight and I'll do the work! Just do as I say and we'll make it! I promise on my hat!"

Arthur felt doubt pooling in his gut, but he decided to ignore it and do as the sheriff said. As soon as the Sheriff's arm was offered, he grasped onto the (surprisingly strong!) forearm and felt himself lifted from the saddle, and for a split second, Arthur thought that he was falling, no part of his body touching that beast of a horse, feet straight out from where he had been and arms clutching the Sheriff's for dear life.

But then he felt his legs slam back against the saddle. It took a moment for him to gather his bearings and get his legs back around the horse. He wrapped his arms around the Sheriff's torso to keep from falling of the great black beast, praying to God that they didn't die.

"Woah- Ace, You'll break a rib if ya hold any tighter." Alfred laughed humourlessly. Arthur decided not to wonder at the moment where he had ever earned the nickname "Ace". He would have to ask later. But for now he concentrated on holding fast to the man in front of him- and felt the horse suddenly surge with power and speed, muscles rippling and nostrils flaring at its new-found energy. The doctor marveled at how the horse and rider duo were so… for lack of a better word… perfect together. Everything the Sheriff said was obeyed by the beast, and everything the horse did was registered into the man's every calculation, showing sharply in his movements and commands.

Unlike in London, there were no harsh words shouted by the commander, not a whip was used on the hide of the four-legged Avenger.

Arthur looked up for a moment to get an idea of where they were going, behind him first, to see that the water was gaining. Another few minutes and it would engulf them unless they suddenly happened upon a miracle.

Then he looked up, and how he regretted it.

"Sheriff, there's a bloody cliff ahead!" He cried, pointing ahead with his eyes wider than his beloved tea saucers he had left with his brothers in London. Sure enough, a canyon was ahead, no less than fifty feet deep, and at least twenty feet across. "We have to go around it!"

"No time partner. Hold on tight!"

"You're mad! Completely and utterly insane!"

"I don't know why you keep thinking I'm mad. But that aside, If you climb in the saddle, ya gotta be ready for the ride." He shouted back. "Now do as I said and hold tight!"

Arthur had nothing to say to that. So he did as said, and held tight.

"Avenger, Fly." Alfred whispered, the roaring of the waters so close behind them and storm raging around them ignored. Arthur wondered what on earth the sheriff was thinking, for the only way that he was able to tell what the mad man had said was by reading his lips, which were concerningly turning blue with the cold he was exposed to, but not a shiver left his body. There was no way that the horse could have heard him. But the ravine was close approaching.

Avenger put his first two hooves on the edge of the cliff, almost falling, but then his hind legs joined them on the very edge, his limbs creating an odd triangular shape from the side. Then he lifted his front legs and pushed with his hinds off of the cliff edge. Arthur closed his eyes, praying. Praying so hard that he thought he would pass out with the exertion. He tightened his grip around the Sheriff, feeling his knuckles nearly popping out of the skin of his hand.

Alfred on the other hand, felt as if he were flying. Avenger had never failed before, and he knew he wouldn't now. However, this was a long jump. He had enough riding experience to know that the landing would most likely be rough. Not only would he owe Avenger a really good rest after this jump, but he somehow had to keep Arthur from breaking his neck in the fall. He wasn't sure how much the doctor had ridden in his past, but judging by how tightly he was squeezing his ribcage in… not much.

Squinting his eyes forward, he saw that the opposite cliff was nearing… very fast. And judging by the angle they were at, avenger was going to have bruised legs for a few days. But nothing too serious.

Turning quickly, he grabbed Arthur in a protective embrace, wrapping his strong arms around his upper body and turned his back just in time for the two of them to be thrown right off of the great horse and to the ground. Alfred cringed a bit as he felt the hard, wet, rocky ground bite into his back, protecting Arthur from the hit. He felt the pain throb through his whole body and he bit back a harsh cry. He glanced to the side to see Avenger land on his side with a loud "Thud!" but not hard enough to do any damage.

"The flood-" Arthur groaned, sitting up from his awkward position with his head resting on Alfred's shoulder, where he had hit quite hard. Alfred expected a bruise from it in fact. Doc had a hard head. Arthur glanced back just in time to see the water that had been chasing them waterfall into the ravine they had just jumped over. It overfilled a little, causing a small wave to splash onto them. Alfred was already wet but Arthur was suddenly drenched. Thankfully less so than he would have been without the cloaks.

"Ugh, not a problem there partner." Alfred groaned. "You alright?" He asked, trying to sit up, but nearly choking on the pain that suddenly shot through his shoulder. He fell back and Arthur jumped up.

"Oh dear, are you hurt?" He asked, kneeling to examine the Sheriff. "Looks like a dislocate." The doctor said with a frown. "Here let me just-" With a swift motion, he used his left hand to support the back of his spine, and the right to push the shoulder back into its place with a loud POP. Alfred groaned in response, but was impressively quiet. Even the pirates he had been forced to serve always cried out in pain when he fixed a dislocate. "Are you alright?" The green-eyed doctor asked, helping his companion up.

"Huh? Yeah- good as gold." Alfred groaned, rubbing his eyes clear of the mud and rain. "lets get to shelter and let ol' Avenger rest. That was a hard leap he took." He sighed, standing up and holding out his hand to help Arthur up. "you alright Ace?"

"Yes, quite. You seem to have taken the fall." Arthur said, accepting the help. "thank you. You seem to be made of steel, friend."

"Ahaha, well I aint made of nothin' but flesh. But I've been through enough ta handle m'self." Alfred sighed, walking over to his horse, who had rolled onto his back, enjoying the coolness of the mud on his sore back. "Aww, avenger! Yer' getten' the saddle all mucked up!" Alfred laughed, scratching his horses belly, causing it to squirm until it rolled back onto its legs and standing up. "Good fella there!" he said, rubbing his nose and patting his neck. "I'll make sure ta treat ya to some treats when we get back!" The horse neighed in response, shuffling its hooves in appreciation.

"It- he can understand you?" Arthur asked, gathering some of the belongings that had flown out of his small bag in the fall. He thanked heaven that his favourite tea packages hadn't been lost and were still tucked into the bottom of the bag.

"Of course! We been together since he was a foal!" Alfred cooed to his big, wet, black horse, scratching it affectionately behind it's ears, in a way that it apparently liked because it started to poke its nose against his chest playfully. "It's how I knew we would make it across that big, ol ravine there." He said. "cuz he's a strong willed fella. Arncha?"

Arthur, feeling almost as if he were witnessing a side to the man that was supposed to be kept between the rider and his horse, coughed. "Well he did an excellent job." He smiled, walking toward the beast. He gingerly pat Avenger's back and then ran his fingers through his wet mane. It was surprisingly soft, and not as grainy as he had thought it would be. The horse shook its head and splashed water all over the two, making them laugh.

"He likes you." Alfred grinned, looking all the sillier with his hair basically plastered to his head with the wet. "I think this is gonna be a great friendship." He laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if a horse likes a fella, he's a good one." Alfred said. "now lets get ta getten." He said. "We've almost made it anyway. Just a few more miles and we're in good ol' Nashville."

Arthur could only smile.

* * *

It was nightfall by the time they arrived in the town. The rain had begun to die down, and was only lightly drizzling down now, but it had rained enough to make it so that the poor travelers were up to Avenger's chest in water. Soaked to the bone, sore as cacti pricks and tired out of their rightful minds, the three made their way up the steep hill, water sloshing around them as they went.

"Just over this hill, we'll be outta the water and in the town." Alfred said with a yawn. "I aint ever been so happy to make it back to the bunker before."

"I can relate." Arthur agreed, nodding sleepily. "How is your shoulder? Sore I expect."

"Not hurtin no more than any other part of me." Alfred laughed. "And you? Ya hit yer head pretty hard there."

"Only because your shoulder is hard as stone. But I'm fine. A little worse for wear, but fine." Arthur chuckled at the Sheriff's ability to be worried about his condition when it had been the blue-eyed wrangler who had taken the brunt of the fall. "Is Avenger going to be alright?"

"Oh yeah, aint nothing that can hold him back. Besides, nothins' broke or nothing, I would know."

"That's a relief."

"Yeah, it was a nasty landing." Alfred laughed.

"Ugh, got us filthy." Arthur groaned, shaking muddy water out of his hair.

"If it aint dirty, it aint fun, partner."

Arthur almost laughed. He still wasn't sure if he would get along well with this man. His callous ways and demeanor were a bit out of what he was used to, but he did have great respect for the man. After all, if it weren't for him he would have drowned because he had fallen asleep!

"It'll be nice ta lay down when we get there. I have an extra bunk fer ya to borrow until we have yer place ready." Alfred said. It only half registered in Arthur's mind, but he didn't mind. It was a place to sleep. On solid ground.

They reached the top of the hill, finally pulling out of the water and relieving themselves from the sopping mess of flash flood below. Arthur hadn't even noticed it getting lower until then. But that was the least of his worries at the moment. Alfred cursed.

"Can't a guy catch a break?!"

Screams emanated from the town. Multiple buildings were on fire and smoke rose and reflected in the water below. Thieves and burglars ran amuck, wreaking havoc all around them. Alfred urged his horse faster and they entered through the gate with a flourish, Alfred jumping off of the horse's back in a fell swoop.

"Get the doctor home Ave! I'll take care of this!"

"You can't possibly take on those men alone!"

"I'll be fine! Now Get!" He shouted, slapping the black beast's rump and making him run off towards the center of town. Arthur could do nothing but watch as the Sheriff got smaller with distance.

**Please pardon any grammatical errors if not intentional. I'm tired. Tell me what you think! **


	4. Chapter 4

"Stupid wanker! Thinks I can't take care of myself!" Arthur muttered, keeping his head down as the horse took him to wherever they were headed. He assumed that it was towards the center of town, because it seemed that way by how they were going through the buildings. People swarmed about, protecting family members and friends. Screams echoed about the place and bounced off walls, making Avenger jumpy. Arthur held on for dear life.

"Alright, if I could just get a weapon, I could maybe help…" Arthur sighed. He was too sore and too tired to be able to fight and he knew it. It wasn't that he was weak, no. never. But fighting like this was impossible for anyone really.

Except apparently for the Sheriff.

The giant horse halted suddenly, knocking Arthur's tired head into the back of the horse's neck. Mumbling about a suddenly sore nose. He slowly got off of the horse, stumbling as he did. (Avenger was just too tall!) He looked up to see that the building they were in front of was no bigger than the station that he had fallen asleep at earlier. Above the door, in fading and peeling paint was the wording of "SHERIFF".

"Well this must be it." He sighed. "Well I suppose it's just you and I Av-!" But that statement was cut short as a gunshot was fired, and Avenger ran off. "Or not." He groaned. Looking around, he quickly ran to the building and wrenched the door open. He was surprised that it was so stuck upon his tug that he almost fell over from the force that he put into it, but caught himself quickly. Bracing himself this time, he yanked the door with all of his might and let it squeak violently out of the way and the green-eyed doctor threw himself inside as quickly as he could, and with a great effort, slammed the door shut.

With his back against the door, he panted heavily and groaned from the soreness that was coursing throughout his veins. He hadn't felt this way in ages, nor did he really care to remember when -at the moment- he had felt that way.

Looking around, Arthur found that the place wasn't much of a sight to see, but he hadn't expected much from a man who was comfortable with riding a horse out in the desert. Or maybe he had expected more. For a leader of sorts of a town, he had expected some sort of grandeur or at least a sign of monetary definition. But there was nothing. A small cot was on the side, and another (it looked relatively new) was pushed to the opposite wall. A small fire stove was in the corner and a bucket for water was set on it. Arthur was relieved to see a small, perhaps underused, kettle sitting by the stove. Luckily he had thought to pack his own favorite teacup…

No! 'I'm getting distracted! Curse my exhausted brain!' (Not to mention tea addiction) 'I need to find out how to help! I can't just sit idly by while everyone else -!" He hadn't realised that he was speaking his thoughts aloud until he heard them echo off of the empty walls. "Now I'm going mad." He sighed, also reminding himself never to say that around the sheriff, who seemed to think that 'mad' was a term for the emotion of anger.

Shifting through his bag, he felt about for any sign of metal and let out a sign of triumph when he felt his hand brush against what he was searching for. He pulled out the small revolver and checked that it had bullets within. Only two. Well bugger.

Stuffing the gun into his pocket, he stood and dashed to the door. Pushing and cursing with all his might, he finally heaved it opened and peered outside as discreetly as the stubborn door could have let him. Chaos still reigned and screams still echoed off of every wall. Arthur was surprised just how large this town was. He had expected a much smaller community.

Seeing a man in a mask (if he could call that bandana over his nose and mouth a mask) trying to take something from a young woman and her child, Arthur ran forward (hearing the door slam shut again behind him) and bashed his small gun against the pressure point of the man's neck, knocking him out cold in an instant. The woman had shoulder length, blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Standing about a head taller than the doctor- wait a minute. That was-

"Frog." Arthur said, almost coldly, but not quite so. He was actually relieved to see a familiar face at last. But he would never tell anyone that. Ever.

"Oh it's monsieur caterpillar." The blonde said in response. "Glad you made it safely."

Said frog did indeed stand a little less than a head taller than Arthur. He had a faint line of blonde stubble growing along his jawline and his eyes were indeed as blue as the ocean, which made Arthur wonder if he could take anymore of ocean ever again in his lifetime. He had blonde hair pulled back with a light blue ribbon and he was dressed as any common man, with a leather vest, off-white shirt and brown slacks with brown shoes. But he somehow made it look like it was of higher fashion. Arthur knew he wouldn't have known how he looked exactly in this terrible night, with only burning buildings to light the area, unless he had known him already. A rifle was slung across his back and a smaller revolver was in his hand, taking impressive shots at the man's targets- for a commoner anyway.

"Hardly. And you owe me quite an explanation frog-face." He said, aiming calmly and shooting one of the bandits in their leg, incapacitating them, and watching them fall. "First off, who is this?" he asked, not even bothering to indicate towards the small boy that was hiding behind the Frenchman. He couldn't see him in this terrible light anyway.

"Ah, oui. First off, I am not a frog. I am Francis. And then this is Peter. He was an orphan, growing up with the sheriff, I assume you met, non?" He asked.

"Yes, we've met. And have already almost been killed together." Arthur said nonchalantly, peering about the corner to check for bandits before they headed further out to help others.

"Ohonhon? Did you fall off of that great beast of his? Avalanche or some such?"

"Avenger, and no. We were caught in a flash flood, had to jump over a ravine and now we're here." The doctor said with a sigh of exasperation. "Although I do have to admit, however much it pains me to say, Avenger is quite large."

"Ha! Large is quite an understatement." Francis said, leading Arthur and the boy, Peter, towards the side of another building to stay out of sight of the bandits. "He is a monstrosity!"

"Indeed, if a monstrosity could ever be as tame as he."

"Tame? That thing nearly bit my hand off when I tried to stroke its magnifique mane."

"Right so, I would bite you if you tried to touch me. It's only natur- Look out!" Arthur grabbed Francis and Peter and forced them to the ground as a large ball of flame flew through the air towards them and through the wall they were standing against. "Where did that come from?"

"Are you alright?!" A voice called from above them. All three looked up and saw the Sheriff, upon his great steed and looking as beat, tired, burnt and oddly enough, powerful as a Sheriff ever could. Arthur nodded. "Alright, getcher selves outta there and to my place. We should have everything cleared up soon enough at this rate. Nice shot by the way doc. Didn't kill. Thank ya."

"Not a problem at all Sheriff. I never kill a man if I don't have to."

"Spoken like a good man. Lemme and my brother round up the rest and we'll hava full jail tonight!" Alfred said.

"Any sign of _him _Alfred?" Peter asked, looking up at the man on the horse with a strange glimmer of-dare Arthur think- hope in his eyes.

"Not yet kid. But hopefully it settles down before it comes to that. Now get." He said, pointing towards the Sheriff's office. "Giddyup partners! Times-a wastin!" And he took off. The three watched him ride off, knocking over a bandit or two as he went with his rifle(Arthur had no idea where it came from) He started to fade into the smoke when a gunshot went off.

Arthur watched in horror as- too far away to do anything- the mighty Sheriff fell off of his horse with a small ribbon of blood flying behind him.

Bandits instantly started to surround the fallen hero and his horse, who reared up on his enormous black hoofs and kicked at the assailants. To the doctors relief, he saw the Sheriff stand and shoot at the Bandits, taking some down with single shots and others with his bare fists. He had obviously not been hurt so badly that it rendered him defenseless. So Arthur, Peter and Francis let themselves relax.

That relaxation was stolen quickly from them as one of the buildings suddenly collapsed there, right in front of them, blocking the Sheriff from the three's view. Gasping, they jumped back, praying that the building hadn't collapsed on the Sheriff.

Arthur started to race forward, but was held back by Francis. "Non! Are you insane? If you get any closer, you will burn to death!" He reasoned, trying to keep him there. "It's better to lose one man, than lose a man and the towns new doctor! After this, we're going to need you!"

Arthur realized that he was right, many people would be injured after such an attack. He needed to be there to care for them. He had no choice. He had to do what was best for the town, even if that meant that the Sheriff, the leader was a sacrifice for that. But what could he do after that? There would be no leader, chaos would rule. That was human nature. Without a figure to help lead and direct, people tended to get violent and lost.

Arthur's thoughts were cut off as a loud, haunting sound echoed around them. The doctor, the Frenchman and the child all looked up and around, trying to pinpoint the location from which the sound came. But all vision was blocked heavily by smoke and fire, fueled by the houses and debris about them. It sounded again, and Arthur could swear, it was laughter. Terrible, crackling, laughter that burned into the good doctor's brain, marking itself a place in his thoughts for the rest of eternity.

"It's him." Peter whispered, from where he was hugging the doctor's arm, next to Francis who had his other arm and whole upper chest from trying to stop him. The boy seemed to have taken to him instantly, but that didn't matter so much at the moment.

"Who?" Arthur asked, looking down at the small blonde that had a bit of an English accent- he noticed.

"The Rider." Peter whispered. "The Ghost rider."

That laughter cackled behind them again, and the three whipped around to see the stuff of nightmares.

A skeleton, that was all the Englishman could describe it as, sat upon a flaming horse. In fact, the man-skeleton was on fire himself. He wore a tattered and burning black vest with a burnt black shirt which hung off his bony frame. His black slacks and tall boots smoked from the heat and also hung off of him in a haunting way. The horse was no skeleton- as far as they could tell, but it was black as night and fire burned on it's brand and eyes. It's mane was _made _of smoke and flames, some flickering blue and purple beneath the orange and red. It opened its mouth to neigh, and flames shot out instead of sound. But the most frightful thing was the rider's eyes. Beneath that black, burning hat, bright flames burned in place of eyeballs in his fleshless sockets, burning like they could see into the souls of those it looked upon.

Arthur could see it. He was always used to seeing things that others didn't. The aura about that rider was terrible, evil almost. But where that power could have been evil, he only could see intent to help, especially when it drew out a burning lasso and gun that already had smoke coming from the barrel. In fact, it seemed almost familiar as lighting flashed across the sky, lighting its burning features.

The rider barley paid them mind as he trotted his flaming steed past them, cocking his pistol as he went. He hopped off of his horse, and walked forward, leaving behind flaming footsteps as he went.

He bent over, and gripped the side of the roof that had fallen over, not paying any mind to the fire that licked and bit at him. He had no flesh to burn. His bony finger closed around the wood and the hard metacarpals bit into the wood, indenting it with handprint. The wood groaned and exploded into little tiny ashes and floated about, almost choking the three behind him, but Arthur covered Francis's and Peter's mouths and noses quickly, not even pausing to cover his own. He held his breath, watching the skeletal being walk forward, horse staying where he had left it with no command.

Both suddenly faded into a great rush of ashes.

Silence fell, and quickly gathering himself and his composure, Arthur saw that the building had indeed fallen upon the Sheriff, and the men. But it seemed that Avenger had protected him. He was under the great beast, but both seemed to be unconscious. Arthur ignored the other two's pleas to stay behind and rushed forward. Collapsing to his knees next to the fallen man and steed, he heaved and ho'd until the horse's unconscious body rolled off of the American.

Leaning down, and ignoring the chills that still surrounded his body, Arthur listened for a heartbeat. He sighed in relief as he heard the tell-tale "thump… thump… thump" of the Sheriff's heart. "Thank the Lord." Arthur whispered. Running his hand over the man's torso, he estimated about two broken ribs and that his shoulder had come dislocated again. 'I wonder if he does it a lot.' He wondered to himself.

"Eh- Now is not the time to relieve your sexual tension Caterpillar." Francis said, walking up behind him. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Can it Frog. I was checking his injuries." Arthur said. He turned as he felt something in the air shift. Swift and heavy footfalls approached until a silhouette suddenly started to emerge. Arthur had to rub his eyes to make sure that he wasn't seeing things, because he swore that it looked identical to the Sheriff. A man came through the swirling debris and smoke. Arthur thought for a split second that it had indeed been the Sheriff, and even looked down to make sure that he was still lying there.

"Alfred!" The man called, in a voice a lot calmer and perhaps a bit less confident than Alfred's own, but identical none the less. "Alfred!" He slid to a stop on his knees next to his mirror image, scooping his head off of the ground and into his lap. "Al! You'd better be okay or I'll give you a what-for!"

"He's fine, just a few broken ribs and maybe a little bump on the head." Arthur said. The man looked up at him, watery blue eyes shining only a shade or two darker than the Sheriff's own. Lighting flashed and lit his gaunt face, which Arthur hadn't even noticed was gaunt before. His blonde locks were identical to the Sheriff's even, but for a long curl that shot out from the center of his hairline.

"Are you Arthur? The new doc?" He asked, looking at the man warily. Arthur couldn't blame him. A lot had happened that night already.

"That is me. And you must be the Sheriff's brother?"

"I'm Matthew, his twin. "The boy nodded, holding out a gloved hand. What a rarity that was, twins that had survived birth. Arthur shook it, realizing how warm the man's skin was.

"You're heating up." Matthew laughed.

"I've always burned like a furnace. Nothing unusual. My brother does too you know, it's why we don't get cold very easily." He explained. Arthur smiled, knowing that some people did just run warmer than others.

"Well it's nice to meet you. But I do suggest we get Sheriff here out of all this before it can get worse."

"Right, I over reacted. I should know by now that my brother wouldn't kick the bucket so easy. I'll get search parties goin' then we'll help you doctor the people that need it. In any way we can." Matthew nodded again. Arthur nodded in reply, liking this boy already. Suddenly, the boy turned his head and put two fingers in his mouth, whistling sharply. Arthur watched in awe as another horse suddenly came galloping out of nowhere.

It was just as tall and wide as Avenger was, just as muscular as well, although it seemed to be a bit wider around the middle. Its mane was white as snow, while the rest of its body was black, and its hooves hat white socks that went up the knee and ended in the bell-bottomed hooves.

"Liberty, take care of Al would ya? Don't worry, we'll get yer brother back to safety too, but we need t' take care of Al first. That's a good girl." Matthew said, helping Arthur lift the said man off of the ground and into the saddle of the new horse. (A draft horse if Arthur remembered correctly) Matthew loosely tied his brother into place with a piece of thin rope. (So that Liberty could help get Alfred off if she needed to; according to Matthew)

"Giddyup!" Matthew said, lightly smacking the horse's rump with his hand. She took off and took an unconscious Sheriff with her.

"Do you trust her with something like that?" Francis asked, making his presence known once again. "That is quite the task, non?"

"Of course I do. She's smarter than Avenger, not that I like to say that much since he's mine."

"What? I thought he was Alfr- Sheriff's?" Arthur asked.

"Aha- nope. He's mine. But we had to switch for the trip because Liberty's expectin' sooner or later. Prolly sooner though." Matthew explained. "But my brother's been around horses his whole life, so he makes it seem like he's practically related to em."

"I see." Arthur said, almost smiling. It made sense, sort of. But the thought of foals from horses as smart as Avenger and Liberty, it made him excited.

"Well you aught to go get doctoring. I bet people are already gatherin' at the Sheriff's place. That's where yer gonna be set up for a small while. I'll go help with the cleanup and fixin'. Peter, go with the Doc. Francis, you can help. And don' go complainin' about getting dirty, yer already filthy. And if it aint-"

"Dirty it isn't fun. Oui, oui." Francis sighed, inturrupting. "I will help, mon ami, but don't expect me to like it."

"Wouldn't ask for anything less." Matthew shrugged. "Let's get."

**Ooooh! Super cheesy! What will happen? I know, but you don't, you'll havta read. :D (Shameless me~) Tell me what you think!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry about the Long wait! I've been suuuuper busy. But anyway, I just wanna give a heads up to you lovelies that in here, Native Americans are referred to as "Red Skins" and maybe later "Rogues". THIS IS NOT BECAUSE I AM BEING MEAN. Wranglers actually referred to them as such. And I myself have Native American blood, so trust me I am not trying to offend. **

**That fun stuff aside! Please tell me what you think when (if) you finish this chapter! **

**Oh- and remember. Cowboy/Wranglers talk with southern American accents. So read it out loud if you can't quite understand what they are saying, and some Lakota is referred to. :D Pronounciation... I have no idea on that. See, I only know how to spell in that beautiful language, so I am sorry. **

**Enjoy! (AND FORGIVE THE CRAPPY mile long Author's note!) **

* * *

"-and if you stay off of it for a bit, you should be fine within a week." Arthur instructed, tying off the twisted ankle. "Maybe even less."

"Wow! Thanks doc, it's sure nice ta meet ya!" the man- one of many that Arthur had met that night- thanked the doctor and shook his hand vigorously. Arthur just smiled tiredly.

"It's my job. Take care of yourself." He said, watching the man limp off.

Arthur had been taking care of people from the instant he arrived back at the Sheriff's office. After quickly removing the Sheriff himself from his mighty steed, and moving him to his own cot (with some- or perhaps a lot of help.), the townspeople lined up outside the place waiting for their turn for treatment. It was long past sunrise when he had treated the last of the injuries and Matthew came to see him and Peter (who had helped a lot) with Francis.

"Yer a fast one- aren't ya?" Matthew asked, sitting on the cot next to his brother's unconscious body. The Sheriff didn't even stir, even when Arthur put a wet piece of cloth over his forehead to bring down the fever that had built up in his body. The good doctor suspected it was from a form of shock, from one of his cracked or broken ribs. The goodly doctor was still surprised that the man's extreme luck. Even after being shot at point blank, he had only been nicked in the shoulder. The bandits must have been a terrible shot.

"I try." Arthur said, frowning deeply. "But I still need to properly bandage Alfred there." He sighed, standing up. He almost wobbled on the spot from his pure exhaustion, but he professionally pushed it aside and walked to the side of the unconscious Sheriff's bed.

"Do you need help?" Matthew asked, standing up as well.

"Ah- if you could help hold him up so I can bandage him, that would be helpful." Arthur said.

"Alrighty then, Ace." He said happily. Helping Arthur grasp his twin under the arms and lifting him off of the cot, and then helping remove the slightly bloody shirt.

"He really looks like he's been through Hell and back." The Englishman said with wide eyes, scanning the man's torso. He was well toned- obviously a man who took good care of himself. But the scars that littered his entire body said otherwise. Most just thin lines of pallor against his tanned skin. Some were still pink and slightly puckered, as if still healing. "What on earth did he do to himself?"

"Aw- that's really nothin', He's been through a lot in his life. Hell. We both have." Matthew said with a small chuckle. "Growin up on the plains aint easy, specially if yer mama is- well if yer mama aint like everyone else."

"What? She wasn't a native here or anything?" Arthur asked, pulling out his wrap for the Sheriff's wounded shoulder. He gently started to wipe the wound with his hot rag, and then he started to wrap the wound- again.

"Oh nah- she was from England, like you. But she married a red-skin, and here we are."

"A red- oh! You mean one of the Indians?"

"That's right. But don' tell no one else, not a lot of people know." Matthew said. "I don't think it matters none, but other people don't think the same." He explained.

"Then why would you tell me? You barely know me." Arthur said. He was thoroughly confused. Of course he knew about the terrible relationship between the Natives and the so-called 'white men'. Many stories had crossed over the oceans to London.

"Well I aught ta be able ta trust ya, right?" Matthew said good-naturedly. "Side's- if ya do anything to hurt my brother, life won' be much fun after that- would it?" Arthur gulped at the look in Matthew's eyes. Oh- he meant it.

"Of course you can, I've just never met someone who trusted so easily." Arthur explained quickly, unsure of if that was what he meant at all. "But aside from that- what exactly was that… _thing…_ that rider?" He asked, tying off one of the bandages and then setting to Alfred's ribs and working to set them back in place. Heavy 'CRACKS' resounded when the broken ones were set again, making the other three in the room flinch. Arthur could only thank his lucky stars that the poor man was unconscious for that.

"Well, they call 'im the Ghost Rider." Matthew started- but was cut off by the suddenly awake Peter, who had been dozing in Francis's arms.

"He's the hero of the underworld." He said, with wide and innocent eyes. "They say that he only comes when his 'chosen blood' need him, and that he travels faster than any man can blink... Only problem is he can only come out at night, or he's just as vulnerable as any other human." Peter said, enthusiasm just dripping from every word. "They also say that if you look into his eyes your soul will burn, and cease to exist."

Arthur thought about this for a moment. He had heard of vengeful spirits before, and of course he had heard of demons. But for every creature he had actually seen, he had never seen one with qualities like this Ghost Rider. Everything about this was just strange. As he had reminded himself earlier, he was good at sensing auras. Telling the difference between them was like telling the difference between colours. But this… he could have sworn was wrong, because the Ghost Rider's own aura… seemed to be human. Not Monster or spirit.

Human.

"That is quite incredible." Arthur nodded. "Is there a tale of how he came to be?" He asked, beginning another wrap around the Sheriff's broken ribs.

"Oui. I 'ave heard it a fair few times while at the saloon." Francis said, leaning back against the wall. "I heard that he was a man who was accused of murder, that he didn't commit. He was hung for the crime, and they burned his body. The actual murderer supposedly died in a house fire, and the Ghost Rider has been fighting for justice from the other side ever since." He told the others. "Or at least that's what I could make out of all of the drunken ramble."

Matthew nodded. "That's what some said. But there's another legend."

"And what's that?" Arthur asked, tying off another bandage. He was a little worried about the Sheriff, for he hadn't even stirred during all of this.

"Yeah well… we heard it from our Pa… long time ago. But apparently, accordin' to the tale, he's a worker of the devil's. Wakȟáŋšiča, is what they called 'im." Matthew said. "Not even sure if that's the right word. But they say, that when a man sells his soul, he becomes what the red-skins call a yažátA- or someone who has come to question their morals, Devil's advocate is what we'd call it. I can't remember if tha's the right wordin' but I remember Pa sayin' it somwhere.

Anyhow, once the yažátA sells his soul, he gets a seat reserved fer 'im in the ol' downstairs. They say their souls turn cold as ice, and they go on livin in a total Hell cuz he's cursed to serve Wakȟáŋšiča for the rest o' his. But if he sells his soul for the sake of someone else, he's cursed to serve wičha- or man-for the rest o' his life too, eternity maybe, an' from then, they be called Riders. Can't remember wha that's called though. But if I remember right, it usually happens with a sort o' tragedy or sommat.

But I remember Pa telling Al and I that the yažátA and Riders are always fightin' each other… they refer ta the yažátA as '_Devi's cattle_.' That Riders are doomed ta chase for the rest o' eternity, with their souls burnin' with a desire fer justice. "

Arthur found that this story made more sense. The Ghost rider had seemed more human than Ghost. Perhaps this legend was more accurate than any old ghost story that the wranglers here could stir up. But if all of that was true, the presence of a Ghost Rider meant that one of the… yažátA were present as well. This could mean something terrible… tragedy could be waiting just about the corner.

"I see." He said absentmindedly. "Alright, you can lay him down, I'm finished."

"Ah! Thanks Ace." Matthew gently lowered his twin back onto the cot, and then pulling his shirt over him like a cover.

"That's another thing, you and your brother call me 'Ace'. What does that mean?"

"Eh? Al called ya that?" Arthur nodded. "Well it means that yer good at what ya do. The best in fact." The twin laughed. "Ya must've given Al a good impression, cuz he never calls people that."

After talking for a while, more about how the town was, it was well into the late morning. Arthur said goodbye to the three when they excused themselves to go home and get some rest, and advised him to do as well. He couldn't help but agree very thoroughly that he needed the rest. Checking that Alfred was well tucked under the blankets that Matthew had pulled from under the Sheriff's bed in a woven basket that looked like it had been very professionally put together.

* * *

"Rise n' Shine, days a' wastin!" A call sounded from outside the (previously discovered) stubborn front door of the Sheriff's hut. Arthur groaned and turned his head into his ragged pillow made of his own travel bag and the clothing it had held. He had- of course- taken out the harder objects. (like a certain teacup and a gun…) He pulled his jacket over his face, trying to block out the light. With a slam, the door flew open and Arthur shot up, a slight headache sparking behind his eyes.

He looked around for a moment, and then saw Matthew standing in the doorway, with the Sheriff standing behind him. The sunlight made them look more like a delusional silhouette to Arthur, but he could tell they both had giant grins on their faces.

"Mornin' sunshine! How'r ya feelin?" Alfred asked with his grin as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"Oh just fine, a bit sore though." He groaned, folding his jacket and placing it on the bed. "how are you feeling? You took quite a beating, Sheriff." Arthur said as the man sat on his own cot, brother joining him on the opposite end.

"Dandy! You did some great doctorin' last night!" The cheerful man said. "An' sorry 'bout the cot, it's the best one I had."

"Oh no- I'm fine with it! It's more comfortable than the one I had back in London. But I'm surprised you're already up and around. Are you still hurting?"

"Well- normally I'd say nah, but yer the Doc, so I'd better be honest. I'm pretty sore all over after all that happened last night. But I definitely had worse in the past, Ace." He said. "'Sides- I gotta keep the town up, ya know?"

Arthur admired that. His determination to keep everything in order. A lot of the townspeople had been a bit panicked when they had seen their unconscious Sheriff on his cot while Arthur had fixed them up. It had taken a bit of convincing to tell them that he would be alright. So him being up and around would really calm everyone down.

"Well I'm glad you're alright. I was worried you would come down with fever from all the damage you took." He explained. "You broke two or three ribs there… not to mention your shoulder wound."

"Ha! Well, I'm doin' just fine. I was thinkin' Mattie and I could take ya on a grand tour o' the town, if ya like. Not to mention that a lot o' the guys were askin ta meet ya officially. Y'know, not while yer fixin' em up." He explained.

"Oh, that's fine." Arthur said with a smile. "Let me just get my loafers-" Pulling on his said footwear, he stood and smoothed out his clothes and then turned to the brothers, who waited patiently and stood along with him.

"We'll getcha a bite to eat as well." Matthew added as an afterthought, noticing the small rumble that came from the good Doctor's stomach. "We could stop at Sadiq's place." Seeing the look of confusion on his face, Matthew smiled. "He's a fella from Turkey. Makes some fine dinin' if I've ever had some. He's got a son… where's his woman from?"

"Greece! Poor fella though, sometimes I think the little guy hates his Pa." Alfred barked a laugh. "Strange places they be from. Sounds excitin' ta me though. Those foreign lands. We actually have a lot o' fella's round from some out-o'-the-way places."

"They are quite fascinating." Arthur nodded. "I hope to meet them soon."

"Ya fixed up his boy last night… ah- you'll recognize 'im when ya see 'im." Matthew said. "Oh- Al… Peter was lookin' fer ya earlier, did you see 'im?"

"Oh? I'll havta find 'im later." Alfred said, wrenching the door open for his companions. "Oh- and apologies Ace, this door is more stubborn than yer French friend. I just haven't had time ta fix it."

"It's not a problem." Arthur nodded. They started walking down the street, which Arthur was able to examine better in the daylight. The dirt roads were slightly muddy from all of the rain that was received by the town the night before. The buildings that hadn't fallen, were all made of a simple structure with tightly fixed wood and smaller bits of metal. Nails if Arthur remembered correctly. Some were simple shops, with little bells fixed so that they rang when the door opened. Once in a while, they came across a place with a sort of fixture in the front that created shade for those who chose to sit outside of the building instead of inside. On even rarer an occasion, there was a wooden rocking chair outside those buildings.

On one of those such buildings, Arthur was delighted to see quite a few chairs sitting outside, some getting quite sun-bleached, but still crafted quite well.

"Oh! Al- we should take Ace here inta' meet the Nords."

"Nords?" Arthur asked. "What- is that their family name?" Strange name… Nords.

"Eh? Nah- they're all from Norway, so we call em the nords. Or at least, that's where they last lived." Matthew said. "They were all born somewhere different, but that's cuz their Pa kept havin ta move 'round so much." Alfred. Arthur nodded. It was the same story all over in London as well it seemed.

"Well lets go on in! If ya ever need sommat to get yer place, just come here, they the best in the whole county. We even got some comin all the way here from Texas an places like that just ta get some nice woodwork." Matthew explained. "An' I think you'll like em. They're friendly folk."

They walked onto the rickety porch and stepped through the dusty doorway, their feet clunking quite loudly against the floor (especially Alfred and Matthew's boots). A small bell rang as Alfred passed through the door, his head accidentally brushing against it. Matthew's head did the same as he passed through, and Arthur suddenly felt rather short.

"Just a moment!" A cheerful and heavily accented voice called from the back room as they heard the bell ring. Arthur looked around as the person seemed to almost trip around in the back. The beautiful wooden creations around the shop were placed carefully on equally well-crafted shelves. There were no price tags, so Arthur figured that you had to ask the owner.

"Oh! Meester Matthew! Meester Sheriff!" The person said, coming out of the back. Arthur looked at him. He was about the same height as he himself was, and had light blonde hair. Bright brown eyes peeked out from beneath his bangs, and he had small spatters of oil on his white apron.

"Howdy Tino!" Alfred said, slapping the man on the back. The said "Tino" laughed in response and pushed him away.

"How may I hel- OH! Hello there Meester…?" Tino held his hand out to Arthur, who took it graciously, hiding his amusement at how Tino said "Meester".

"Arthur, Arthur Kirkland." He said with a smile, shaking the man's hand firmly. He- however- wasn't expecting such a firm grip from the small man. He supposed it was from working with the wood all day.

"Well it's nice to meet you Meester Arthur!" He said cheerfully. "What brings you to our small town?" He asked, going behind a desk that probably acted as a trade table.

"Ace here is the new town doctor." Alfred said, slapping the said doctor on the shoulder. "Come all the way from London ta help us out."

"Oh splendid! You're the one who helped Berwald and Lukas then! I kind of expected you to be taller, not that it really matters I suppose. Oh- by the way Meester Alfred, Peter was looking for you."

"So I heard. Is he home?"

"Yes! Just in time too! Peter! Meester Sheriff is here!" He called to the back. Small, frantic footfalls came from what Arthur guessed was a set of stairs. Then the small boy came flying through the door and latched instantly onto Alfred's legs, hugging them tightly. Alfred swayed a little, but was able to keep standing.

"Woah there fella! Slow down!" Alfred said, bending down to look the child in the eye, even if it had to have been utterly torturous to his ribs. He then was able to notice that small tears had formed in the corner of his eyes. "What's the matter partner?" he asked, concern dripping from every syllable.

"I- I had a dream that you died! You were asleep for so long last night, and- and- the Rider showed up! I thought you- I'm sorry!" The little boy cried. Alfred pulled the boy into a hug, and looked up at his brother with a sort of grim look. Matthew just smiled and shook his head as if he were brushing something off.

"Well I'm sorry there, Partner. But as ya can see, I'm doin' fine! So- did The Rider really show up?" He asked, pulling the boy to an arm's length. Peter nodded fervently, suddenly bursting into a grin.

"Yeah! He was just as cool as everyone said! His eyes were so cool! Like blue fire, and he really was a- bone guy!"

"Woah there, are you sure?!" Alfred asked, throwing as much enthusiasm as he could into his words. Peter nodded again. "That's awesome! Just remember, never look inta his eyes for too long!

Hey- Mattie an' I have gotta take Ace here around town, get 'im used to everythin'. I'll be comin' back soon to hear more about yer story, but later, deal?" He held out his hand. Peter grinned widely and shook the much (much much much….) larger hand.

"Deal! No more getting hurt for you though!" Peter said cheerfully, jumping up and then taking off into the back again.

"Don't forget to clean the shop before your Uncles get home!" Tino called up to the boy as he left. A faint "YESSIR!" was heard from wherever he had gone. Alfred groaned a bit as he stood straight again, and Matthew helped him by grasping his (good) arm and helping him up. His ribs must have been feeling terrible by this point.

"Sorry about that Meester Alfred." Tino sighed. "He was so worried about you… are you doing alright?"

"Ah- we all know I've had worse." Alfred laughed good-naturedly. "But thanks ta Doc, I'm a lot better."

"Oh good! Well, I need to prepare the shop for Berwald and Matthias's return. Lukas and Emil should be at Sadiq's for breakfast. I didn't have enough time this morning, with everything that got destroyed last night, I had a lot of work. Berwald and Matthias are out helping fix some of the other homes."

"Well tell em thanks for us." Alfred said with a grin. "I dunno what we'd do without ya."

"I will! You have a good day, and get feeling better Meester Alfred! And it was wonderful meeting you Meester Arthur!" Tino waved as the three left. They waved in return and clunked out the door with grins and smiles.

"Told ya you'd like 'im. Though I wish you could meet Matthias sooner! He's a great guy, so're the others, but ya know, he's more…"

"Wild?" Matthias offered. Alfred laughed.

"Well yeah- but I was gunna say 'lively'."

"They all sound charming." Arthur smiled.

**Please leave a review! You can tell me characters you'd like to see if they haven't already appeared too!**

**Ciao!**


	6. Chapter 6

The small food place was just that, small. It was entirely wooden with matching tables and walls of polished cherry wood. The doors set it off with rough, un-sanded wood.

"-and finally, we have a _simit, _or a round piece of bread with sesame seeds all over it." Heracles, a tall, early teenaged year boy said, ticking off the different foods on his fingers. His hair was a dark, milky brown, and his eyes were a faded green, kind of mixed with an off-gold. A strange, split curl was in the very top of his head, right where the sections of hair met. He wore a simple white shirt and brown slacks with boots. Arthur did indeed remember him from the night before, and he could see the bandages still wrapped around his wrist and hand.

"Alright, I'll try that Simit if you please." Arthur said with a kind smile. The boy, Heracles, seemed rather tired and a little bored with his job, and Arthur couldn't blame him. It was far into the afternoon, and it seemed that the young man and his father were the only ones running the place.

"Alright." Heracles nodded and left, going to the counter that seemed to have an entire kitchen behind it through a door. He shouted something and a response came, from a slightly deeper voice. Then the door flew open and slammed against the wall next to it.

The man was tall, around the height of Matthew and Alfred. He had dark brown hair, almost black that had the same split curl as his- Arthur assumed- but it was at the base of his neck instead of on the top of his head. He wore a bright red shirt that seemed to be made of some sort of silk, probably quite expensive. His white pants were slightly dirty at the bottom, but quite pristine. Black shoes adorned his feet as well. The strangest part was the white mask- porcelain- that covered his eyes and part of his nose.

"So you're the new doc!" the newcomer said happily. Boisterously. He walked over to the table, pulling a chair from another, and sat down next to the three occupants. He held his hand out to Arthur, who took it and was surprised by his firm grip. Or maybe not so much. He may have owned a food rest, but he was built like a bull.

"Yes, that's me. Arthur Kirkland. It's splendid to meet you." Arthur said, shaking his hand just as firmly.

"I'm Sadiq Adnan, That was my son, Heracles." Sadiq said with a small laugh. "Thanks for fixin' up my boy. Hope he didn't give you a hard time." He said with a grin.

"Not at all." Arthur said. "he was actually half asleep if I remember correctly."

"yeah, sounds like him." Sadiq said with a nod. "But don't be mistaken, the boy's as strong as an ox. He lifted half a roof off of one of the kids last night. It's how he burned his hand so darned bad."

"Half a roof? That's incredible." Arthur said, taking a sip of his root beer.

"Yeah- that kids go power." Alfred laughed, leaning back in his chair and sipping his beer. "He stopped a bull from rampagin' the town once. Grabbed it by the horns an' flipped the devil right over."

"Was amazin'." Matthew nodded. "Al an' I almost broke a leg getting' tha' thing back ta its pin." He sighed, sipping his own root beer. "Darned thing gashed poor Herc's arm though."

"Ya- that scar always makes me cringe." Sadiq said. "Still healing actually."

"Well that's not too surprising. A gouge from a horn like a bulls would take months to heal."

"Really?" Sadiq asked, eyes wide.

"Of course. Depending on how deep it is I suppose. It also depends on the person." Arthur nodded, sipping his drink. It was growing on him, the fizzy drink was very different from what he was used to. (warm, delicious, earl grey…) "Didn't the last town doctor tell you that?"

"Nah- he was a right nut in the head, Ace. Used these strange chants n' stuff ta try an' fix people. 'Parently his grand pa was some fella from the witch trials. Where was that again?" Alfred asked, looking at Matthew.

"Salem."

"Right, Salem. So he was here for only a couple o' weeks before he actually killed someone with one o' his strange incantations. Or at least tha's what he said. But really, he just didn't fixer up properly. She only had a stomach bug too."

"Oh no." Arthur said, drink halfway to his mouth, but frozen there. "That's terrible. I can't believe that someone would even claim to be a doctor if he can't even fix influenza." He shook his head in shame.

"He just wasn't right in the head." Sadiq said. He looked up out of the window and frowned. "Oh, well I'd better go give Herc a hand. He always tells me I'm slacking off." He grinned. "It was nice meeting you Arthur. I'm grateful you've come to our town."

"I am as well." Arthur nodded, watching him go. Silence for a moment, then Arthur turned to the twins that sat across from him. "Who was this doc… well not really doctor but, man? What happened to him? Who did he kill?"

"Eh? Well he was a strange one. But he was called, what was it? Edward or some thin' like that. I dunno, it was almost two years ago." Matthew said. "But while 'e was here, no one really got sick that often. Only one or two a month really. Then Helena- Sadiq's wife." Matthew whispered this particular part of the tale. "She got sick, influenza we think. But it only took one hour of her bein' in his care and she just… died." He said. "No one really knows. But he just packed up the next day and we aint seen 'im since."

Arthur nodded, thinking hard about this. It sounded quite fishy really. _There's only one person I can think of to contact about this. _ He thought silently, sipping his root beer. He would have to write a letter later in the evening.

"Is there a postal service around here?" Arthur asked. Alfred looked at him.

"Yeah, express passes through every week. Jan and Belle stop by mah office and pick up the box." He said. "oh hey and by the way, yer own place should be done by tomorra'. Matthias told me that this mornin'." He explained. Arthur nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you." He said, as Sadiq and Heracles came out with their food.

* * *

"An' that's the toy shop. The Nords all build the stuff, wooden anyway, and these guys paint it up and make it look pretty." Alfred explained, pointing to the small shop on the end of the way. "An' there's the saloon. Best beer around. Tha's run by Gilbert ant Ludwig. They some scary lookin' fellas, but they wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Those are the stables. Speakin' o which, we should go check on Ave and Lib. Feliks said she looked 'bout ready ta pop." Matthew said, looking at the said stables. Apparently, due to distrust of other towns, there was only one very large stable in the whole town that was guarded well by two men- Feliks and Toris if Arthur had heard correctly. It was for those who lived inside town and had horses. Naturally the farmers had their own.

"'Bout time. I wanna see our granbabies!"

"Alfred, you aint no Pa ta our horses!" Alfred gasped, clutching his chest in shock.

"No way partner! We been raisin' them since they been colts, and we aint their parental figures!? I don' wanna believe it!" He swooned, over dramatically.

"Haha, right. Whatever ya say." Matthew rolled his eyes, giving Arthur a knowing look, that clearly said 'I told you so.'

They went inside, and were all met with the smells of manure, oats and hay. It took Arthur a good long time to get used to it, but he coped. Pirates smelled much worse after all.

"Hey Liberty!" Alfred said, running up to his horse, and hugging her nose. She snorted and nodded in response. "How's yer brother doin? Huh?" he turned to the other horse that was standing next to Liberty. Avenger seemed to be asleep.

"Oh come on, I even brought ya some treat." Alfred pouted. Avenger's head snapped right up at that and neighed.

"Aww! There's a good fella!" Alfred said. "But you havta find it first!" he teased good-naturedly. Avenger snorted and prodded the Sheriff's chest with his nose gently. Arthur was surprised that the horse almost seemed to _know_ that Alfred was injured. It then reached up and knocked the man's hat off, revealing two red apples to be hidden underneath. "Good work partner!" He said, grabbing one of the fallen apples and holding out with a flat hand. "got one for ya too Liberty. Gotta give ya good food to care fer yer babies!"

"Is he always this… way around them?" Arthur asked, leaning over to Matthew and whispering. Matthew nodded and laughed.

"Yeah- he turns into a downright _Pa _when he's dealin' with em."

"You like, totally got that right." A voice said from behind them. Both jumped and turned around to see a man with shoulder length blonde hair and bright green eyes.

"Feliks, how are ya doin?" Alfred said, finally paying attention to outside of his little Horse world.

"Totally fine. But I'm expectin' Liberty's gonna be like, a Ma within the week." He said with a smile in both eyes and countenance.

"That's good ta hear!" Alfred said excitedly. "Besides, it's 'bout time. She's been getting wider an' wider!"

"Well that's, like, totally what happens when you're gonna have a baby." Feliks said, coming up next to the Sheriff, and proving to be about seven inches shorter than the said man. "I would even guess that she could like, totally give birth by morning."

"Well if ya could let me know that'd be great." Alfred smiled. "Oh! And Feliks, this is Arthur, the new town doc."

"Oh! Well it's totally great to meet you." He said, shaking Arthur's hand. "Do you have a horse yet?"

"Not yet, no." Arthur admitted. He hadn't even thought about it. How was he supposed to do house calls when he didn't even have his own horse? Ridiculous. Of course, he could cut himself a small break. He had only been in the town for a day.

"ya can ride Lib or Ave until the colt is old enough to ride if ya like." Matthew offered.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I'd need a set of stairs to get on one of them if they're anything like their mother." He explained sheepishly.

"Ah- I like, totally understand that, Doc." Feliks nodded. "I'll see what we have and see if we can getcha a totally nice one." He said. Arthur smiled.

"Thank you very much."

* * *

It was sunset by the time Alfred and Arthur were heading back to the Sheriff's home. Arthur had met so many people, and his head was spinning because there were so many new names and faces to remember in one day. He decided that it would be best to try and remember them over time, so his head didn't explode.

As soon as they entered, Alfred sat on his bed and pulled out a stack of papers under his bed. He had explained earlier that he had to look over the town's cost for getting fixed so that it could all be compensated.

Arthur sat down as well and pulled out some paper and a charcoal pencil as well, then began to write.

_Dear Allistor, _

_ It has been a while since we have last conversed. I hope you are doing well. _

_ I am here in America, as you will probably see by the postage. It is quite nice here, and I'm sure you and our siblings would enjoy it here. It's warm during the day, but by night we get terrible storms that have even flooded entire plains. My travels up here have been quite… eventful. But by any means they were successful so I don't mind. No pirates this time around. Thank God. _

_ I am sure you're wondering why I would be writing you at this particular time of year, for there is no special occasion. However, I do have some questions that you would know better answers to than I myself. If you need to take it up with Vladimir, then by all means please do. He is an authority on this after all. _

_ The problem, you see, is that I've only been here but twenty four hours, and I've already encountered a supernatural being. The townspeople all have a tale about him and call him the "Ghost Rider". I have been told different legends about them, and one of them (the one I believe to be the most accurate) suggests that they are spirits that work for man, fighting against some sort of devilish beings that are the opposite of they themselves. _

_ While I do sense that is the case, I heard there was a doctor here who did witchcraft to try and heal people. He wound up killing a woman and ran off. Hence the need of my being here. _

_ With all of these stories, I have some certain suspicions, but I can't be sure. I do wish to have your opinion on this, and perhaps Lukas's and Vladimir's. I just wish to be sure about it._

_ I wish you and family all of the best, and hope you are doing well. I hope to see you again one day, and pray for your success. _

_ Best wishes, _

_ Arthur. _

* * *

**Howdy! Hope you're all not bored to death with this chapter, but I needed to cover some stuff. :D **

**Salem witch trials were brutal by the way. Crazy people they were. *shivers* **

**Tell me what you think please! I know schools happening for a fair few of you, but even if you just say 'hi' I'll be happy to know you actually read it. :D**


	7. Chapter 7

It had been three weeks since Arthur had sent the letter, giving the said parcel to a cheery woman with a very stoic man next to her in the wagon. (He had volunteered to take the box of letters in Alfred's stead) Confident that it would get to its destination, he had left time to decide the fate of the parchment.

He had gotten a new, quaint little home with two rooms. (which was rather large for this town) One was solely for treating patients and the other was for his daily living life. A small cot was in the far corner, while a stove and water pump were built into the other side. The wooden floors were quite sound for all bit the left corner that had a board that squeaked when you stepped on it right. Alfred had made sure that Arthur knew _that. _And as far as it went, Arthur had enjoyed living here very much so far.

Another attack by burglars hadn't happened in a while. Not since the first night in fact. The good doctor was greatly relieved, for it actually took a few days for the soreness from his travels to ease away, and he didn't feel too keen on fighting anyone else for the time being.

On the other hand, Arthur was surprised at the incredibly fast pace in which Alfred had healed. His ribs had completely healed within two weeks and he had lost all bruises before that. The gunshot wound was nothing but another scar now, and he was just as lively and hyper as he had been when they had first met. Maybe even more so.

It was late one night, far past dark and even into the early morning, Arthur suspected, that a loud bang came from the other side of the door. Sitting up with a jolt, Arthur pulled his jacket over his night shirt to go and see who could be bothering him at such an ungodly hour.

As soon as he opened the door, he came face-to-face with Alfred F. Jones. As opposed to his normal, cool demeanor, his hair was wild, as if he had just leapt out of bed. His eyes were wide and slightly red about the edges and he was panting breath as if he had run a thousand miles.

"Alfred you wanker, wha-!" but he was cut off as Alfred grabbed his shoulders and shook him.

"**_Liberty's havin' her babies!_**" Alfred gasped, shaking the doctor more.

Arthur, knowing how worried the Sheriff had been about tall of this, nodded, still not fully awake. But willing himself to be with the poor, exhausted looking man through the experience.

"Just let me get my loafers, I'll be back in a moment." Arthur said, turning to his cot again. "You can step in, it's freezing out there." He added, sitting down to pull on his said footwear.

"Thanks Ace." Alfred said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "Sorry fer wakin' ya." He said, shifting his weight from foot to foot with nerve. "Mattie's outta town so… ya'know…"

"Ah yes. He left this morning, am I right?" Alfred nodded. Yes- something about getting more wood for the town to rebuild. After everything that happened, they had decided to reinforce the homes and gates around the town. Especially since half of the gate had burned.

After Arthur had pulled on his shoes, the two left the home in a flurry of swift steps. Alfred stayed in the lead, tripping slightly and showing Arthur where to avoid stepping in the process. (A secret winning tactic for the doctor at this late hour)

Bursting into the horse's stalls, the two found themselves standing in front of a stranger sight from the normal setting in the stalls.

Felix was sitting on the opposite side of Liberty, who was laying on her side, with her back to the two new entries. Toris, who Arthur had met a few times, was sitting by Liberty's head and running his hands soothingly through her mane. Liberty was breathing heavily, her rib cage expanding and shrinking with each breath. Her huffing noises filled the room and small bits of hay moved about the floor in front of her nose and head.

"Liberty!" Alfred said with a slight panic. Arthur couldn't help but twist his head up to look at Alfred's face, taking in the moment. He never saw the Sheriff in any sort of state but one of confidence in an almost unhuman way. He tucked it away in his memory banks to remind himself that the Sheriff was indeed human.

"Like, totally calm down Sherry." Felix said with an eye roll. "She's doin' like, just fine." He said.

"Why don't you and Mr. Kirkland take a seat over there Mr. Sheriff?" Toris suggested, indicating towards a couple of stools set aside for reaching. Alfred nodded and was lead by Arthur to the small seats, and sat down. Both were situated uncomfortably and had their knees to their chests from how short the stools were. Arthur almost laughed at how ridiculous they looked.

"Y'know, it's funny. I aint ever been scared o' a horse havin' their babies." Alfred said. "I grew up around 'em. Why am I bein' like this?" He sighed, resting his head back against the wall.

"Because you're human." Arthur blurted, looking sheepish as he did. Alfred glanced at him. "It- it's in human nature to worry about things that they care about. I'm guessing- you've never been this close to another horse before? She's like family, like Matthew is."

Alfred nodded, then continued to look at the ceiling. "Thanks doc. Ya always know how to fix things."

Arthur smiled, and then scoffed. "Of course. It's my job you wanker. How did you get anything done without me?"

About ten minutes later, Alfred laughed as they watched two colts, standing up on their wobbly legs. Liberty was prodding them encouragingly with her nose and Arthur was ready to pass out from how hard Alfred had been gripping his arm. Felix and Toris were both relieved of a job well done.

"So, like, one's a girl and the other one is totally a boy." Felix said. "Both totally healthy and strong!"

"They're… adorable." Arthur said, smiling a little. Alfred looked like a child on Christmas morning. "What do you plan to name them, Alfred?"

Alfred thought for a moment, brow furrowing as he did. "Well I don't rightly know yet." He sighed. "I'll havta ask Mattie. He's a lot better at the whole namin' thing. He named Liberty fer me, and he came up with Avenger. He said my names were too…"

"Brash." Toris said from next to Felix, "He said they were too brash."

"I suppose I'm not too surprised." Arthur nodded. "It's just like you to name something too brashly." How strange- he never would have expected to say something like that a month ago. "But I am curious, what would you like to name them- if it were up to you?"

"Wrangler and Flower."

Arthur laughed and laughed all of the way home.

Arthur chose to sleep in past breakfast the next morning, as opposed to Alfred, who never went back to bed for all of the energy he had accumulated the night before. Waking around mid-morning, Arthur stretched, made his daily cup of tea and went out for his daily stroll, as usual. But was met with a young boy running at high speeds, and nearly knocking the Englishman over.

"Peter! Watch where your headed lad, you could have broke your neck." He said, checking the boy over. Only a bump on the head. A piece of paper taped to a small parcel was clenched in his little fist. "What's that you've got there?"

"Owww- Oh! This is for you Mr. Doctor sir!" He said, holding out the parcel to him. "It came in the mail, so Mr. Alfred told me to bring it to you!"

Arthur smiled and took the package from him. "Well thank you lad. Job well done." Peter beamed. "But don't let it get to your head!"

Peter stuck his tongue out playfully and ran back off, towards his home at the wood shop. Arthur chuckled and looked at the package, then the smiled wiped off his face and he tucked the parcel under his arm. Briskly, he walked back to his small home and nodded to those he passed.

Once he arrived, he slammed the door behind him and sat on his bed, setting the package on his lap. Tearing at the twine, he ripped the brown wrappings off and slid open the wooden box.

Inside, a small iron cross was resting among a pile of hay. It was connected to a thin piece of chain for hanging around one's neck. Confused, Arthur took up the letter attached and ripped it open, reading the contents.

_Arthur. _

_It has indeed been a while, and I am glad to hear you are doing well, you brat. Couldn't bother to tell your old brother that you were heading to America! Fun news is that so are we! Probably not the same place as you, but it's at least visiting distance. That'll be a nice change, and I'm simply relieved to hear that you didn't run into any pirates again this time around. You're just a fisher for trouble aren't you?_

_We're all doing well. Grandmother Ness has that influenza stuff though, but thanks to the notes you left everywhere, we figured out how to help her. Not sure if she'll make it across the seas though, she is getting on in age. Almost eighty now. (You should really organize that stuff by the way; it's as confusin' as any religion I've ever seen.) _

_A supernatural being? I did ask Vlad about some of it and he said that what you're looking at isn't anything he's ever seen. So we did some research and came up with some interesting legends. One was like you said, where they are servants of man. Sort of turned by a sort of vengeance or something like. The only difference I have found from what you said- is that those spirits aren't dead. _

_Turns out that they're actually humans. They age a lot slower than normal humans- like the vampires we know, and they can look about twenty when they're really in their seventies or so. They are turned by a sort of deal, but that deal is broken with whoever they made it with and it becomes a curse. So really, it's a cursed person, not a spirit or anything. I guess your 'supernatural being' is more accurate than ghost. _

_And the other part, about them having some sort of enemy? I read that they're called 'Ice breathers', because whenever they're around you feel like your breath is freezing in your throat. That's an understatement of the century. Those two things are at __war__. It's not just some petty differences between species like (We've heard it a thousand times from Vlad) vampires and faeries. They kill each other no matter what, and those ice breathers don't care who gets hurt in the crossfire. Which is why I sent you that cross. It's iron, which is an ice breather's weakness when it's hot. It also works if it's just warm, but it's not as effective. _

_Just remember that both of these things only get active at night. So you don't have to worry about them before the sun goes down. But if you have to go out after dark, take that cross with you. If you can, stay near a fire or something when you are out. It could be anyone. _

_And learn to write more. I'll let you know when we arrive in America._

_Allistor Kirkland_

__Arthur put the letter down and picked up the cross. Gently lifting it up over his head and letting it rest around his neck. it settled right over his heart, and the coldness of the metal seeping through his clothes almost instantly.

But the words of Allistor's letter kept ringing through his head.

_"It could be anyone." _

_**Hey y'all! Hope you're all doing alight, sorry I took so long. I have been job hunting and it's very time consuming. **_

_**Drop by a review! It means a lot to me!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Ohmigoodness! Thank you for the point out at that embarrassing mistake iconoclasticGentleman! **

"I can't believe this." Arthur groaned, heaving the small box out of the wagon, letting it slide across the creaky wooden floor. Francis- who was across the room from him- laughed in his unique 'ohonhonhon!' way.

"It is merely your insanely terrible amount of luck that has gotten you this." He said. "I always told you that you were just a big mess of bad luck."

"Yes- but in all of America, my brother has to be moving _next door?!_" Arthur groaned, unpacking the box of medical supplies that had just come in the mail with the letter telling him that- well…

_Hey Arthur! Are you keeping an eye out for those monsters we talked about? I hope so. Keep that cross on you. Anyhow, We've just arrived in America, and as I suspected, poor Grandmother didn't make it across the sea. I know you weren't exactly close, but I thought you ought to know. Anyways, we have our destination in place, and I'll be moving to Nashville, Tennessee. I was hoping to find somewhere that needs a blacksmith, and the sheriff (weird title) said that the current guys there said that they would love the help! I haven't got the slightest clue where you are, but I do hope that you're going to be close by so I can bother you like old times. I also received instruction that I'll be living real close to the town doctor! How funny is that? Vlad decided he wanted to come too, a change of scenery he said. Romania was getting to him, and he was sick of the people there being so cold to him. But he still loves the language, it was a hell of a ride coming up because he kept arguing with the captain who didn't understand a word of what he was saying. We should be at our final destination about a week after you get this, so let me know where you are!_

_Best of wishes,_

_Allistor Kirkland._

A knock came at the door, and Arthur met Francis' eye before he went to answer the door.

"Howdy ace. How ya doin'?" Alfred asked as he strolled in past the Englishman.

"Well I suppose. What did I say about being invited in, Sheriff?" He sighed, closing the door behind him. The door was slightly swollen from the cold weather that was moving in, but thankfully no snow or hail had moved in, just terrible rain. They had been forced to line sand bags around each home and house to keep the flooding out and the dry in. The river just outside the town had created a lake around the entire town, with only the sand-bag lined fences to keep it out of the town as best they could. The reinforcing of the said fences were thankfully finished with the help of every towns person that could spare the hands before it had come in.

"And what have I said about calling me Sheriff? And I did knock ya know." Alfred said good-naturedly. "I see your package came in. Tha's good." He grinned.

"Yes, which is quite good. Now I can properly stitch things up when it comes to it. Less risk of infection that way." He said with a nod, moving back to organize the new packages. "Oh, and I got a salve for Heracles. It should help that scar of his heal better."

"Really? Oh man, Sadiq'll be real grateful." Alfred said, with a nod. "How much did it cost ya?"

"About three pounds. Not too much." Arthur said, noticing that Alfred was digging about in his pockets. "What are you doing?"

"Here-!" He said, pushing about four pounds into Arthur's hands. "Ya need it more than I do, and I havta pay off my tab somehow at his place." He said with a grin. "Sides, I owe ya fer fixin me up earlier."

"Ah- I can't take this-!"

"I insist! Doncha dare try ta give it back!"

"Fine, fine… By the way, did you receive a letter from a blacksmith in Scotland?"

"Yeah I did! Howja know that? He seemed real excited ta be comin' ta live here. Said his poor Gramma had passed on the trip up here though." Arthur nodded. "But that's besides the point. Howja know?"

"Ah- well you know that brother I mentioned?"

"You never really mentioned a brother!" Alfred said with a smile bright as the sun. "I didn't know! Er- maybe I wasn't payin' attention?"

"Oh. Well now you know. Anyhow, that man is my brother." He held out the letter that he had tucked away in his pocket only moments before the sheriff had barreled in. Alfred took it, scanning the contents with blue eyes and looked up.

"Wow! Can't wait ta meet 'im! Does he look like ya? Is he older or younger? Didja ever live in Scotland with im?"

"Ah- well, people say we look alike. But I don't see it. He's a year older than me… and yes. I lived in Scotland most of my life as a child. I moved to England for medical schooling and he stayed behind with our grandmother." Arthur explained.

"Oh please, mon ami! I do not think I've ever met someone who looks more like their brother than Monsieur Sheriff here and his _twin._ The only difference between you two is that he has red hair."

"Red hair?!" Alfred asked excitedly. "Oh wow, Ace!"

"Red as a sunset." Francis nodded.

Arthur wasn't sure if he was amused or frightened at the prospect of his brother and the Sheriff meeting.

* * *

"COME ON! IF WE CAN'T GIT IT BLOCKED, WE'RE FLOODED OUT!" The Sheriff's strong voice echoed loudly through the soaked town. Rain fell so hard around the towns people that they were nearly rendered blind from the water splattering their faces relentlessly. They were literally drowning in this pelting weather and the lightning that flashed was the only source of light that they had, for the rain didn't allow any candles or torches to be lit.

Matthew Berwald, Sadiq, Heracles, Arthur, Matthias, Ludwig, Gilbert and surprisingly (to Arthur), Tino pulled the majority of the weight, piling nearly six or seven bags at once, while the rest of the men in the town formed a long line around, passing bags along one at a time until they reached the front where the said men were stacking them.

The men all gasped desperately past the water that blocked thier inhales whenever they looked up from the ground. Mouths wide open, hair dripping wet into eyes and water literally pouring down their faces, they threw one sand bag after another on top of the barricade that they had been forming along the town line. Reaching nearly six feet high, the barricade did very little to block the floodwater.

Arthur did find it amusing that everyone was so surprised at his strength. He wasn't going to lie, he had worked too hard to not be able to fend for himself, and his town in England had been through their own fair share of floods. But it did grow slightly tiresome when the men kept asking if he was alright or if he needed a break. Granted, he was exhausted. But who in this situation wasn't? Besides, after this, he would probably have plenty of colds to have to treat the next day. Not to mention perhaps influenza. So if helping could lessen that chance, he would do it.

"THE DAMS BROKE! GIT TA HIGH GROUND!" Matthew and Mattias's voices cried over all of the other frantic sounds that filled the town. Screams of fear filled the air as the women and children were swiftly escorted (More like carried) by the stronger and more reliable strengths of the town. Peter was atop Berwalds shoulders within seconds, while the other children were quickly tucked under their respective rescuer's arms.

Making a mad dash for the good doctor's home, which was strategically placed at the highest point in the small town of Nashville. It would be a tight fit, but there was an emergency upstairs that was only to be used for just that- an emergency. (In fact, a recent addition to the place at the request of Matthew, who had suggested it in case of sickness or flood) Arthur could only thank whatever authority figure above that he had such a large home. The eighty or so people should have been able to fit comfortably- if not snugly- enough.

Arthur snatched up a child as he ran, her small blue dress slapping his legs wetly as she flailed against him in a panic. He glanced down and realized that it was Francis' (recently) adopted daughter that had been found by the river, holding a fish of all things.

"Calm down child! We need to get to shelter!" He shouted, coughing on the water that insisted on entering his lungs as he spoke. The water was up to his knees by then, and his steps were rendered slow and sluggish because of it. Sloshing through the relentless barrage of flood, he groaned with each step.

Target in sight, Arthur clawed desperately at the water that was quickly rising. The small child struggled to breath as the water splashed and slapped against her cheeks and face, choking her. Arthur tried his best to lift her above it, but labored greatly to keep his arm strength up enough for that.

Finally, he reached the door of his home, which was packed with townspeople trying to get in as fast as they could. The traffic backed him into the water, just behind the sandbags that were keeping his floors within dry.

"GET INSIDE, QUIT YER FIGHTIN'!" Alfred, who had come out of nowhere with three or four children in his grasp. "STOP PUSHIN AND GET!"

"File in with order!" Arthur cried, trying to gain a semblance of order so that the goal could be achieved quickly and efficiently. But the people were in too great a panic. Shoving, shouting, and even screaming fits were heard throughout the parade of humans. Arthur found himself on the ground once or twice, shielding the smaller child from harm with his own body. He expected plenty of bruises.

A horribly familiar sound suddenly filled the air from the left, and the good doctor slowly turned his head to the left in unison with the good Sheriff. Green and blue eyes widened as the wave was witnessed coming, with the power of a god, icy water threatening to pull all and one under it's ferocity.

"The dam gave way completely." Alfred whispered, water dripping down his face. Then he turned, and a spark filled his eyes, like fire in the freezing storm.

"**QUIT YER FIGHTIN AND GET INSIDE NOOOW.**" He commanded with a roar as powerful as a lions. Every villager stopped their fighting, looking at the Sheriff with a mixture of respect and fear. In silence, they all helped each other inside as quickly as they possibly could until only three or four- not including Matthew, Alfred and Arthur- were left to get inside. But the great wave was upon them.

Without thinking, Arthur threw the little girl to Matthew, who was a good four feet higher than he was on the hill. He was relieved to see the man catch her with the aide of his brother, right as the water slammed into him- wiping him right off of his feet with a power equal to a boulder.

Gasping and flailing, the poor man fought the current, which was proving to be much more powerful than he could ever dream to be. Like a trapped animal in a hunters catch, he felt his body weaken and fail as he was pulled under.

He held his breath as well as he could, only letting breath escape him in small bubbles. Desperately, he plugged his nose to prevent any of the water getting in. he closed his eyes and relaxed, hoping that it would help him float on top of the water.

'_I can't die like this. There are too many people relying on me for help.' _He thought frantically, clawing for the last bit of consciousness he had. He felt his thoughts becoming sluggish. _'sorry brother, I don't think I can greet you when you arrive.' _

Suddenly a gargled shout was heard as his head broke to the surface. He had no idea where he was, but he drew in a frenzied gasp before he was tugged back under. Like a rag doll, he was thrown up and down in the water, hearing something like shouting, or crying as he broke and sunk in the water.

"_ARTHUR." _it said. He couldn't tell if he knew the voice or not, but it was haunted- like the call of death. Perhaps that's what it was. Death had come to retrieve him from the world and stick him with the scythe.

Vision growing fuzzy, Arthur felt something warm grab his arm. He turned his head to see what it was, but all he saw was a red handkerchief and a faint, orange and blue glow, like the last dying embers in a fire. Then all was black.

* * *

Green eyes snapped open, Arthur snapped up off of the small cot that he had been lain on. The headache that throbbed behind his eyes was minimal to the bruising pain that racked his torso and left leg and arm. Looking around frantically, he saw that he was on his own bed- albeit soaked to the bone- while about thirty people were sleeping in various positions on the floor. Little Peter- and Michelle (if he was remembering her name correctly) were curled up on either side of him, while Francis was resting with his back to the cot, and head hanging unceremoniously in a fashion that would cause a good ache in the neck later. Frowning, Arthur remembered what happened. The flood.

He could still hear the rain pounding outside, but the building was holding up rather well. Nodding in satisfaction, he slid off of the cot, careful not to wake the children that rested there, and cricked his neck to either side. If he was going to have people here, he had to make sure that the chances of getting sick were lowered to the minimum.

He built up a fire in the stove, opening the hatch so that smoke wouldn't fill the room too much. He went outside and filled four buckets with water to the brim and hauled them back in one at a time to boil over the fire. Going into the second room, he built anther fire in the fireplace that quickly spread the warmth throughout the groups of sleeping people. Once the water was boiling, he carried it to the set of stairs and (carefully stepping around the citizens of Nashville) took them upstairs and placed them in each corner of the room, putting planks of wood strategically around them to keep the sleeping occupants from rolling into them and burning themselves. The steam rising from them kept the room warm enough for then, like a sort of hot spring.

Going back downstairs, he gathered every blanket and towel he had and started to drape them over those who looked to need them the most. (mostly those upstairs) Just as he finished with the last quilt, the front door opened, and Matthew and Alfred stepped in. Both were sopping wet and looked like they had swam through the entire town. Their lips were blue from cold and their hands shook uncontrollably from the same.

"Good Lord, get over by the shower. Take off your shirts at least. You'll freeze, just hang them above the stove." Arthur instructed. But was ignored.

Alfred and Matthew both took swift steps to him and wrapped him in a wet, unexpected embrace. Arthur stuttered for a moment, not sure of what this was about.

"Dear God Ace, I had thought we lost ya." Alfred said, pulling away. "You were under water for almost ten minutes. Mattie and I went out lookin' fer ya and I found ya nearly dead over by the gate." He said. "Never pull a stunt like that again!" He scolded.

"That person that pulled me out was you?" Arthur asked questioningly, looking Alfred over. He instantly recognized the red handkerchief (soaked) wrapped around his neck to protect from wind storms. It had been him. But what had that glowing been? Perhaps in his delirium he had been seeing things.

"Francis had ta get ya breathin' again." Matthew nodded. "He was the only one who knew how. Scared half the town ya did. Michelle was havin' herself a fit. Thought she was the reason ya died."

Arthur nodded, knowing that he would have to thank his old frienemy later. (he would stubbornly ignore what 'getting him breathing' implied. It had been an act of service no more no less.)

"I see. I will speak with her later. But for now, get by the fire. You'll get yourselves sick if you don't." he scolded. "Do you have any injuries?" he asked, giving them a once over.

"Just some bruises. Nothin' major." Alfred sighed as he struggled to pull off his shirt. The water that soaked both he and the clothing made it near impossibly. Arthur held his hands out to the brothers to take their soaked tunics and hang them. When both had writhed their ways out of the wet constraints, he took them.

"Now get yourselves over by the fire. There's an extra blanket under the cot there, get that and get yourselves warm." He ordered. Both brothers nodded, too exhausted to argue. Once settled, Arthur sat in a chair kept in the corner.

"How long was I even out?"

"Not sure- couldn't have been long though. We got ya back bout an hour ago, and left bout half o' that ago. So prolly not more than a quarter hour." Matthew explained. Arthur nodded, taking note. He judged by the small pains from his side that he had bruised his ribs pretty badly, and his shoulder had taken quite a hit. His leg had gotten much better after moving around on it for a bit. So all in all it could have been much worse.

"That's good then. So I expect it's about mid-night. Did you find anyone else out there? Or any provisions?" Alfred nodded.

"As expected, all the horses got on top of the hill too. They always sort of have to fend fer themselves. But they all made it. We got us some food, I think it floated away from Sadiq's place. They were all in crates. So it's a bit soggy, but it'll tide us over for a bit. Depends on when the storm lets up, but we were expectin' a load of provisions soon. So if all goes well, we should be able to get out o' this with most intact. Just everythin's wet." Matthew said.

"Most the west side was spared, not as much over there. So we can maybe get it dry enough over there to let everyone stay there for the time bein'- and if the water recedes enough, we could get the south end cleared up. But the north and east are basically gone." Alfred groaned, leaning back against the stove. Only the blanket kept him from being burnt, but it didn't seem to bother him or his brother. "It's freezin' out there though. I aint ever seen it this cold before. It feels like…"

"Your breath is freezing in your throat?" Arthur suggested, almost hoping he was wrong. Alfred looked at him.

"Yeah actually. Felt like ya can't even breathe cuz there's somethin' blocking yer breath. Like ice." He said. "What d'ya think Mattie? Somthin' like that?"

"Yeah- I think… somethin' bigs comin'. Somethin we aint ever seen before."

**Good lord that was crazy. How y'all doin? So Ya left more reviews than normal! So I decided to thank you by writin' faster. ;D (hint hint) Not to mention I'm also working on my Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons story at the SAME TIME. It's slowly killing me. **

**Please leave a review! I promise the next chapter will be more interesting! (hopefully that's a good thing...) And all that jazz. So tell me whatcha think! Means a lot! (also if you have suggestions, I'm open)**


	9. Chapter 9

"Francis, could you give this to your daughter? It'll help her cough- and make sure Peter is still healthy." Arthur said, handing the said Frenchman who had been assisting with gathering the leftover medicinal herbs and cures.

"Oui mon ami." Francis nodded, taking the small pack and starting off. "Oh- and Monsieur Caterpillar?"

"Hmm?" Arthur looked up from his cabinet, and met eyes with the named 'Frog'.

"I'm glad you're still alive." He said. Arthur cocked an eyebrow, but nodded.

"Thank you- for helping." He added. The double meaning behind it very clearly. Francis just nodded and left, giving Michelle the small pack of medicine. "Uh- yes. Well." Arthur went back to work, wondering if the Frenchman was losing his mind- or perhaps catching the cold that had begun to spread quite terribly. It could be the only explanation.

"Howdy Ace, howya doin?" Matthew and Alfred walked in, bearing more blankets. Both- Arthur could swear- were running a fever and still refused to stop doing whatever they could to help the town get back on its feet. "We found these floatin' around and dried em up on the roof." Matthew explained. Arthur nodded. "Eh- well at least as best we could."

"Thank you." He said curtly. "have you gotten any rest yet? I don't want you getting any more sick than you are."

"Ah- nah, we'll catch some winks later, Ace. But fer now we aughta be helpin as most we can." Alfred sighed, sitting on one of the many chairs that were brought in from the floods outside.

Everyone in the town had taken to sleeping in shifts for the past three days. Women and children had been put in charge of food and preparations, keeping others warm and helping where they could with the doctor's efforts in getting everyone in top condition. The men of the town had taken to gathering and searching for supplies that could be used in both efforts, Or in helping to repair the dam that had broken in the storm. While the sick were tended to by the others while they rested in the fireplace room.

"How are the efforts going out there?" Arthur asked, mixing together ground ingredients, desperately trying to get as much done as he could before sundown.

"Good- the dams nearly back up. So that should help a lot…" Matthew sighed, sitting next to his brother. "it's like Al said, the south is basically almost ready for livin' again. Jus' a bit wet… Only problem is that we'd havta carry a lot o' the folk about there, cuz the water's still 'bout four feet ta seven feet deep." He explained. Arthur nodded.

"And the horses?"

"They're fine." Alfred spoke up. "Liberty's a bit sick, but Felix says she'll be good as new… she just needs ta get the proper restin'." He leaned back. Arthur could tell that he was worried to death about his beloved Liberty. "Colts're fine too. Just shakin from the storm."

"I can believe it. I haven't ever seen anything like it." Arthur nodded, dumping the ground herbs into the boiling water. "I wish I could help more out there, but-"

"No need. Yer doin' plenty enough here." Alfred said, cracking his neck to the side, causing his red kerchief to shift around his neck. Arthur noticed the strange patterns on it, and the clay beads that lined the side, along with a single claw of some sort. He had never paid much mind to it, but now that he had, he couldn't quite help being curious.

"May I ask- where did you get that red kerchief? It's quite peculiar." Arthur asked, mixing his concoction.

"Eh, it was my Pa's. He made it when he was a kid. Mattie has one too." Alfred said, pointing to the blue cloth that was tied around Matthew's belt. It too had the strange patterns and beads on it. "It was sort of the only thing we could keep of 'im."

"That's perfectly understandable." Arthur nodded, setting the kettle of medicines on the counter. "Now if you would drink some of this- it will fight the fever." He said, offering two small glasses of the stuff. "Don't argue with me on this either."

"yeah-yeah." Alfred and Matthew sighed in unison, accepting the glasses. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"I daresay not." Arthur chuckled, a slight cough coming up behind it, but he fought it back. He didn't have time to get sick here. Not then. He had to care for the town and its people. "No one wins a fight with me."

"Unless it's a bar fight." Alfred chuckled. "With a post."

"No- we do not speak of that!" Arthur felt his face burning with the memory. Stupid Sadiq and his slipping alcohol into his drink…

"Just kiddin' Ace! Anyhow, we gotta get back out there- I think there's a big ol' log out there we could use fer the dam…!" Alfred was cut off as a scream echoed from outside. Whipping his head back, Alfred jumped to his feet, and dashed out the door before they could even acknowledge what had happened. Matthew and Arthur met each other's eyes for a half moment before following the Sheriff out.

What they found was more than terrifying than they could have expected. Women were on the front deck, screaming in terror as the water below them froze before their eyes. Arthur felt his chest freeze just as the floodwater did. There was no mistaking such cold. Ice breathers were present.

The ice was already frozen three inches thick on top, and throughout the town, men who had been traversing through the water were suddenly frozen into the water and losing the feeling in their legs and feet.

"Matt! Go get the guys and use all the tools ta get them out! Imma run a check an' see who all is missin'!" Alfred shouted.

"Yeah! Be careful- WAIT!" Matthew suddenly stopped mid-sentence, just as a loud bang went off above the sheriff.

"ARTHUR!" Alfred dashed back to his friend as he started to fall backwards. The gunshot echoed about the whole town. Matthew caught the good doctor before he could hit the ground. Slowly lowering the man to the ground, the Sheriff's twin looked up to see who the assailant could have possibly been. His eyes sparked with malice.

Above them, an apparition of ice sat upon its skeletal steed. Cold steam drifted from its mouth and eyes. No eyeballs were visible in its sockets, and it's skin was white as snow, with flaking skin that looked as if it would tear upon touch. A smoking gun was pointed at the three.

"Ice breathers…" Matthew muttered, glaring daggers upwards at the assailant. Alfred's head whipped around to see that his brother was right. Standing, the sheriff pulled his gun out with the speed of a whip and fired three shots. Through bleary eyes, Arthur saw the bullets hit the horse in either of its eyes and one made its mark on the riders forehead. With a loud screech and a flash of dust, the ice breather disappeared leaving only the wounded doctor as proof of its presence.

"Ace! Ace, hang in there, don't close yer eyes, we-we'll getcha some help-!" Alfred searched for the wound on his friend, trying to find where he needed to stop the bleeding. "Come on ace- stay with us!"

"Wha's goin on o'er 'ere?!" A very unfamiliar accent echoed through the place. Matthew and Alfred looked up and were surprised to see a taller red head dashing towards them, slipping and sliding on the thick ice. As he got closer, Alfred recognized the green eyes instantly.

"Are ya Allistor Kirkland?" he asked, looking back down at the felled doctor. The red head basically face planted next to him on the ice, and then climbing up the small expanse of frozen grass to scramble up next to his brother.

"Aye, and ye must be the sheriff?" Allistor nodded, shifting his vision to his little brother. "Wha' the devil 'appened 'ere?!"

"We aren't sure, but yer brother got shot…" Alfred explained between breaths, breaths that he hadn't noticed were fast and panicked from the Englishman's injury.

"Aw- almost ye mean." Allistor said, reaching down and grasping a chain that Alfred hadn't noticed was around the blonde's neck. Tugging it up, he pulled an iron cross from under his shirt. A bullet was embedded into the metal, but did not pierce through it. "Just a bruise, mate. Oi- Artie. Getcher arse up here and get back ta work!" Arthur's eyes snapped open and he sat up faster than he probably should have.

"You will not be pulling any of that while living in this town, you wanker!" Arthur said, grabbing onto his older brother's collar and shaking it back and forth, but quickly gasping at the sharp pain that erupted in his chest. Gasping, he grasped the place with a clenched hand.

"Ye okay, little brother?" Allistor asked, looking at the smaller man with slight concern, but mostly a teasing air.

"Just some cracked ribs, nothing I can't handle, Wanker." Arthur said, pushing away the others, and Matthew who was still holding his upper body up. "Did you reinforce that cross with something Allistor?" he groaned, standing back up.

"Haha, maybe. Maybe not." Allistor said. "Oh- and Vlad said he'll be 'ere soon. Jus' hasta get him some sleep first in the las' town over."

"Lovely. While he's at it, tell him to get me some more tea. I'm almost out." Arthur scowled.

Alfred leaned back in relief.

* * *

"So- you infused it with magic, didn't you?" Arthur said lowly, later that evening, so that no one could hear.

"Cancha just believe tha' yer brother's a good ironsmith?" Allistor whispered back, looking up at the wooden ceiling of the small room that he and his brother were sleeping in. With reluctance, he agreed to sleep on the floor of the younger sibling's room. Of course, he had only come to see what was going on in his new home town, to find it half frozen and his brother lying in the arms of the Sheriff and his brother. Quite the welcome really.

"No, no I cannot." Arthur said with a snarky smile. "Did you though?"

"I toldja- maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Vlad did it."

"Ah."

"So- have you figured any of yer mystery out yet?"

"I have suspicions, but nothing solid enough to act on."

"Who do ya suspect?"

"Hmmm… I'd best not say. But that was the first time I've ever seen an Ice Breather." Arthur sighed, turning over slowly, as not to aggravate his ribs. It was far past mid-night by this time, and they had gone to instant work getting all of the frozen men out of the ice that had appeared out of nowhere. By sunset, they had finally been able to get everyone inside and asleep. Arthur had done all that he could to get things under control, and then had finally laid his head to rest only moments before this moment.

"Really then? Was it as terrifyin' as the texts say?"

"It shot me."

"Well aye, I suppose that makes it terrifyin." Allistor nodded. Shifting, he turned to look up at his brother to see that he was deep in thought. "Wha's wrong."

"Have you ever- I don't know- ever thought something, but was too afraid that it was true? That you would be made a fool of?" Arthur asked, doubt lacing his every syllable.

"Of course. Ha! I was afraid tha' when I asked if yer friend was the Sheriff, tha' he was the bloody cook or sommat." He laughed in response. "Ye can' learn nothin' if ye don't ask questions."

"Indeed." Arthur sighed. "Goodnight… wanker."

"G'night brat."

* * *

Arthur felt hands shaking him, a burning sensation erupting immediately into his ribs from the action. Crying out, he sat up, smacking heads with something just as equally hard-if not harder- to his own cranium.

"Blast it man! Wake up! We're under attack by ice breathin' monsters!" Allistor's heavy accent tore through Arthur's brain like an alarm. Snapping his eyes open, he found himself in the freezing cold confines of his own room. The entire place had been frozen and he felt his sleeves tear from pulling away from his cot. Nodding, he and his brother jumped up from their places and raced out the door, calling for the houses other occupants to wake up and get going. It may have been before the crack of dawn even considered showing itself, but everyone was lively and up before long.

"Where's the Sheriff? Isn't he supposed to be in charge o' this sort o' thing?!" Allistor shouted, running away from the freezing shelter. The ice was spreading so fast that loud cracks and bangs were heard quite loudly over the screams of the people.

"I suppose, but what is he supposed to do?! You can't expect him to be able to solve everything in a situation like this!"

"Good point."

Arthur suddenly stopped, a shiver going down his spine and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Stopping, which may have been a mistake, for his feet froze to the ground almost instantaneously, he looked to his brother.

"I can sense him… he's here." He said, grasping his brother's sleeve.

"The Sheriff or th' Rider? Because either one would be nice about now." He said quietly.

"The Rider. He's here- he's…!"

**"****_Here."_**

**Allistor: Thanks fer the reviews me darlin's!**

**Stop stealing the spotlight Allistor! Anyway- leave a review! You did awesome again, so I sped up my writing! **


	10. Chapter 10

_"Pa, why does everyone hate us?" A young child asked, his bright blue eyes shining with tears. He and his brother had just come back from feeding their horses, Liberty and Avenger._

_ "What'd we do wrong? Are we different?" Another child, almost identical to the other child, albeit his slightly darker shade eyes._

_A middle aged man looked down at his child, dark locks braided on either side of his face, feathers entwined along in the strands. His bright blue eyes shone from dark skin and painted face. He smiled, and set his carving knife and wood down on the table he was sitting at. Kwahu, the father of Alfred and Matthew looked at his beloved children then, leaning down, he scooped the small boys into his arms and sat them on his strong lap. _

_"Matthew, Alfred, My sons, you are different. But that means nothing in the sights of your destiny. The others do not hate you, they are merely afraid, because they do not understand you or I." _

_"But why? What did we do wrong Papa?" Matthew asked, fiddling with his father's hair. "The village leader said that it was our fault Mama was gone." _

_A flash of anger seemed to shoot through their father's eyes. But it was gone before either boy noticed with their teary eyes. "You did nothing wrong. Nothing. Do not ever believe for a moment that anything is your fault. Your mother chose the path she took, and it is her fault and her fault alone." _

_The Man hugged his children close, squeezing them comfortingly in his strong, tanned arms. Alfred traced his small hand along some of the scars his father had across his arms and shoulder, while Matthew continued to play with his locks of ink-black hair. _

_"No matter what, my sons. Do not stop fighting. Do not stop fighting for yourselves and what you love." He said quietly, rubbing his fingers lovingly against his children's shoulder blades. A blissful moment passed between them and a lovely silence filled the air as the children took comfort in their Kwahu's presence, and he in theirs. _

_A loud banging was heard from the front door, and shattered the silence. Kwahu sighed, and went to place his son's on the ground, but neither would remove their arms from around their father's neck. Sighing, Kwahu went and answered the door. _

_"Hello?" But his question was answered as four pairs of hands grabbed onto his sons and ripped them away from him. _

_"PAPA! PA!" The twins voices screamed through the night sky, trying to get away from the men holding them back. Many doors opened and women's heads poked out, trying to see what had happened. Their small hands, the hands of eight year olds, reached and grasped for their father, who was being led away by another group of men. The poor boys watched as their beloved father was thrown to the ground, then held down with another, much larger man's foot. _

_"PA!" Alfred screeched, finally ripping himself free of his captor, and pulling Matthew with him. They landed harshly on the ground, just outside their home. Rushing forward, Kwahu screamed. _

_"NO! Go! Get to Avenger and Liberty! Get out of here-"_

_His sentence was never finished, for the gunshot that went off, and pierced his skull._

_The next few moments were a frightful time. But it took too long for the men to register what was happening before it was all over. The two children burst into flame, screams of agony pouring from their mouths. But it wasn't from burning. It was from the pain of losing their father in such a moment of peace. _

_"PA." Each child sobbed dashing forward, and grasping their father's arms. The men retreated, screaming 'Devil! Devil's spawn!' but were ignored promptly by the two horses that came galloping out of nowhere. The assailing men were met with burning blue eyes that shone with literal fire, before the Horses came up._

_Scooping the two boys away, along with their father, the new legend of Ghost riders rode off, never to be seen again._

Burning blue met glistening green as Arthur stared into the eyes of the Ghost Rider. He sat upon his great, smoking steed with confidence and conviction. Blinking, the good doctor saw it, noticing for the first time, that a blue, patterned handkerchief was tied around the belt loop of the rider's jeans.

"_Matthew?!" _He gasped, gazing up at the rider, who tipped his black, burning hat at him with bony fingers. His mouth opened, looking utterly bizarre while It had no skin to be akin for lips, Arthur wondered how his jaw stayed in place. But decided that when it came to spirits, he wouldn't question menial things like that. The orange fire that wrapped and licked around his entire body probably was the answer to parts of that.

"You mean the Sheriff's Bother?!" Allistor asked, grasping his younger brother's arm protectively, as if he were expecting him to do something stupid. "What-"

**"Silence." **Matthew said from above, looking down at them with his burning eyes. **"Get out."**

"Of course…" Allistor said slowly, pulling his brother away with him, running away from the confrontation. But both brothers were nearly knocked over by a passing force.

Looking behind them as they ran, Arthur and Allistor saw another rider. Shock coursed through their veins. Two?

A red Handkerchief was visible around his neck, the beads clicking with each movement that he made. The fire licked around him just like it did his twin brother, and his horse smoked like a burning coal in a fire.

"That's Alfred." Arthur groaned, unsure of whether he was surprised or not. Allistor nodded.

"Makes sense I s'pose. They're twins." He said. "Or even if they just brothers… I imagine it'd be a sort of package deal." Arthur just agreed silently and ducked behind a fallen bit of debris left over from the flooding.

"Only so."

Alfred and Matthew gazed up at the Ice breather, glares only felt for lack of their actual lids to glare with. Eyes flashing, Alfred whipped out a smoldering, black gun and fired. But instead of bullets, little balls of fire shot from the barrel and collided with the icy skin of the Ice breather. Hissing noises filled the air as the Ice breather jumped off of his horse, and started shooting his own frozen shots as the two brothers. The twins jumped and twisted around, avoiding each shot with precision and speed. When the futile and brief confrontation was complete, Alfred and Matthew shot forward with speed and grace rivaling that of an eagle's take off. Their fists aimed and missed as the ice monster dodged and jumped out of the way. Their well practiced kicks and punches were countered easily, until Alfred's foot collided with the Ice breather's ankle, and threw it off balance.

Matthew took the opportunity and aimed his gun's barrel at the monster, and fired. The shot made direct hit with the monster's forehead, causing it to scream and writhe. Thinking it was a win, Arthur almost stood up. Until his brother grabbed his arm and yanked him down, pointing.

"Look!"

Two more Ice breathers on their steeds appeared, one had long, white hair and dark purple eyes, while the other had shorter white hair and the same eyes. Both were obviously women, if their builds had anything to say about it, and their slender frames seemed to look more fragile than the first that had shown up.

"seems you all wanted to party without me, am I right?" A voice whispered from behind Allistor and Arthur, who both jumped and looked back to see a man with lightly toned blonde locks and bright red eyes. Small fangs were visible behind his grin and his skin was paler than any healthy person's aught to have been. (Except for Gilbert Beildshmidt. They would have to look into that later)

"Vlad! Glad you came. Though your timing is about as lackin' as Artie's organizational skills." Allistor said, slapping his friend on the back. "Did ya find anythin' else out about the deal?"

"No. there wasn't much else to look into. But I did run into Francis. It's been a while. He looks the same as ever."

"So do you Vladimir."

"Shut it."

"Shh!" Arthur said, glaring at the two. The battle of the century was taking place and they were jabbing at each other's aging. What morons!

Alfred and Matthew had pulled out what looked like flaming lassos. Their booted feet were placed, once again, in the stirrups of their saddles. Their horses glowing red eyes were locked on the blue ones of the white steeds that passaged the Ice breather's on their backs. Somehow, the first, who now had a hideous black hole burned into his skull, had gotten back on his horse. And though he seemed weakened from the last attack, he also seemed ready to fight.

Then, without any warning, the five horses lunged at each other their riders shooting and shouting hauntingly as they went. Matthew and Alfred used their ropes to latch on to the opposite riders and yank them off of their mounts, causing them to land on the ground with terrible cracking noises, and then allowing their own black stallions to kick and trample them. The three hiding cringed at the horrifying snaps and cracks that emanated from the attacks. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur knew that the villagers were watching from somewhere, hiding in their own niches and crevices of what was left of town. But it didn't matter at the moment.

"I feel a really strong power building up." Arthur whispered. Allistor and Vladimir looked at him.

"Good or bad?" Vladimir asked, watching with his two friends as the five fought, like a dance. As cliché as it was, each movement or attack was perfectly executed and each dodge was expertly maneuvered. Alfred and Matthew fought with the strength of a thousand men, while each ice breather did the same. But how each side fought, fire against ice, Arthur literally felt the ying and yang of the moment, as if it were as palpable as the clothes he wore.

"I don't know, they both seem to emanate the same power wavelength. Almost like their powers are obtained through the same source. I can only guess it's what gave them that curse they obtain." Arthur said, not looking away from the gruesome battle. "But it's like a stick of dynamite, waiting to go off at any moment."

And like dynamite did it go off. A huge explosion of fire and ice suddenly went off, where Vladimir suddenly jumped on top of Allistor and Arthur to protect them from the fire with his back. But to their surprise, the fire seemed to pass right through them, as if it were a simple warm breeze. The ice, though, melted almost instantly with the intensity of the heat. A sort of balance kept the attacks in check and made that only the battlers were the ones who got hurt.

In fact, Arthur was entirely worried about them in the aftermath. When the explosion had cleared, he saw that the twin Riders were both covered in bits of ice, their fire basically gone, except for the blue flickering lights in their eye sockets. Their hats were almost white from the frost that had piled on them, and their signature handkerchiefs were also frosted over in ice.

But the other three, the Ice breathers, had caught fire. And their icy armour, as Arthur, Allistor and Vladimir observed, melted off. Beneath revealed two women and one man, all with pale blonde hair and purple eyes. The man stood, and pointed his finger at the two brothers, hissing like a feral animal. The two girls behind him, which Arthur guessed to be siblings or family of some sort to each other, did the same, sharp teeth being revealed behind their blue lips. Alfred and Matthew stood tall, and roared in reply, as if having a conversation with the ice breathers. Their voices echoed through the ages it seemed, holding years and years of anger and rivalry with their opponents.

Arthur heard whimpers come from the inside of his home, that stood tall and frozen behind him. He spotted Michelle and Francis all huddled in the doorway, just out of sight of the battle. Francis had his back completely to the battle, and was holding the girl protectively. The small sound seemed to have caught Alfred's attention though, and he turned his boney head to the doorway.

It was impossible to say, since there were no muscles or skin or even eyes to show how the man was feeling at that moment. But Arthur almost swore he saw an expression of sympathy… even sorrow pass over the man's expressionless face. He turned his creaky neck again to across the way, where little Peter was being protected by his adoptive father, Berwald in about the same fashion. Not much further down was Heracles, who was hovering protectively over his father. Gilbert lay unconscious from the cold on the ground, while Ludwig held his body away from the cold ground. Alfred's eyes passed over, looking around at the familiar sight, heavy with emotion that went unseen. But it was short lived as the fiery sheriff's head snapped back to the Ice breathers, who were still hissing like reptiles.

Alfred roared, Matthew doing the same, as if to repeat what his brother was saying. Alfred suddenly whipped out his gun again, pointing it at the middle man again, who already had a hole in his head. He fired, one, two, three, four times. Each bullet just missed its target, leaving small holes in the Ice breather's clothes. The white monster looked at him, not even batting an eye, and opened his mouth, letting loose a high pitched scream. The scream that reminded Arthur of a tormented soul, screaming for revenge. Then the three disappeared in the flash of wind, sweeping them away like a pile of snow.

The two Ghost Riders stood still for a moment, almost as if catching breath. But they didn't breathe. Alfred looked at his brother, who looked at him and nodded. The two kicked their spurs lightly against their charcoal horse's sides, taking off into the night, glancing back at Arthur for a split second before disappearing.

There was silence for a long moment, and then murmurs started to sound around the village. Men, women and children all rose from their hiding places. Family checked over each other, making sure that they were safe and well, and if they weren't, worried cries emanated. But Arthur ignored this.

"Help the others, I need to check on something." He said absently, rising to his feet and running off towards the hill where the horses had taken shelter.

Upon his arrival to destination, Arthur found Alfred and Matthew both lying on the cold, wet ground. Their chests heaved with lack of breath and they were pale. But what irked Arthur most was the frost that lined their every bit of clothing and skin. They were covered. He spotted Avenger and Liberty over under the trees, greeting their two colts with small nudges and neighs. Small bits of smoke were emanating from their skin… but hardly noticeable.

"You wankers have a lot of explaining to do." Arthur said, crossing his arms. Both brothers opened one eye, and lifted their heads slightly, looking up at him with tired eyes. Alfred nodded.

"Yeah… yer right. But first? A nap."

**So a LOT (and by a lot I mean three or four of you) guessed who the ghost rider was. ;D If you can guess who the Ice breathers are, I'll give you a virtual hug. Or cookie if you like. And of course, I'll update faster. (Sorry for the long wait) I think I gave a lot of hints. I'll feel bad if you don't know, cuz that means I fail. D': And I also apologize, all of my fight scenes are pretty lackluster. **

**Tell me what you think! Pretty pretty please! **


	11. Chapter 11

The brothers somehow made it to the English Doctor's home in one piece. However, Arthur quickly learned that their strength was basically sapped from their bodies. Quickly making an excuse to the people, Arthur was able to convince them that the two were suffering from hypothermia or something of the like from the cold. He didn't know how, but they had managed to fix the dam before everything had gone down, and he had a terrible suspicion that they had been out all night until the attack had happened. That would mean that they had been out in the cold for at least nine hours, lifting and stacking wood in the cold water, building the dam back up from scratch by themselves. Unless, of course, some of the villagers had been out with them. But even then, that meant that he had plenty of potential illnesses building up in the men. Sighing, he placed another kettle over his fire, while Allistor built the fire in the stove. Pumping air, the room grew warmer and warmer while the townspeople stayed gathered in the other rooms, trying to warm each other by staying close and near the fires.

"Are ye a'right Artie?" Allistor asked, while Vladimir scratched his nails along the floor, filing them down. "Woul' ye stop tha' Vlad? Tryin' ta hold a conversation with me brother."

"Oh, well excuse me. My nails being long and pointed would really help the situation, so I apologize for my rudeness." Vladimir said sarcastically, red eyes flashing at his friend. "Is there a way to plan for the next attack though?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. "And lower your voice. You'll alert the others."

"I mean." Vladimir said, lowering his voice considerably. "Do you have a plan in case the family of frightful snowmen come back? Our fire power seems to be out of commission "from the cold" at the moment." He pointed out so very quietly that Arthur and Allistor had to lean in to hear. "Unless we can get the black smiths here to cooperate, I can't help much."

"What do you mean? You mean the cross that you gave me?" Arthur asked, looking at the man.

"Well, when I told you that its weakness was iron, I was only telling half the truth." Allistor shrugged, looking around like he wanted to avoid the gaze of his younger brother.

"What?"

"He meant blood." Vladimir said, sitting up straight and looking at the younger of the two. "See, while iron is protective, it's not all powerful. However, because Ice breathers are already dead, and don't have any blood to bleed, it becomes their weakness. But even more powerful than that, is supernatural blood. Like mine, or your sheriff's there. Or even yours… to an extent. You have some magic."

"What are ya?" A voice said from behind the Romanian. He didn't seem as surprised as the other room's occupants. He merely turned to look in the doorway to see the Sheriff standing in the doorway. His eyes were slightly drooped with tired, and his left hand rested on his right shoulder while he leaned against the left shoulder. Dark lines were under his eyes and his face looked almost as skeletal as his Rider forms.

"Well as your father would have called us, a _weyáǧope, _more commonly known as a vampire." Alfred nodded, looking into his Vladimir's red eyes with his blue ones. "Kind of rude to call me something that means leech bat." He said with a dark smile. "I've never turned into a bat in my life. And I avoid them too, because their screeching gives me an ache of the cranium like no other."

"But you kill the innocent for your own gain." Alfred said darkly. Vladimir threw his head back and barked a laugh.

"Never. I've only ever killed one man in my life. And that- was a long time ago. Trust me, he wasn't innocent." He said darkly. "But that aside" His tune seemed to turn cheery again. "How do you plan to fight back when you're fresh out of energy?" He asked.

Alfred glared, still untrusting of the new man in town. But he stood straight, and walked past the three, proceeding to crouch in front of the fire. Without warning, he stuck his hand in, and Arthur instinctively yelped and jumped forward to stop him. But Alfred held his hand up and stopped him, surprisingly steady for his squat on the floor. But the other three were forced to watch as the Sheriff's hand caught fire, and turned to bone. The flames remained around his hands, drifting like an aura as the man pulled his hand out of the stove. Vlad looked ultimately interested and fascinated as the skeletal hand was turned and examined by its own owner. Arthur had an emotion across his face, a mix between awe and concern, while Allistor looked ultimately like a child on Christmas morning.

"Tha's amazin!" he said cheerily. "Does it hurt? Does it do that on its own- or do ye have to control it yerself?" Allistor gazed on the flames with utmost respectable interest and fascination. He truly wanted nothing more than to learn more and understand what was happening.

Alfred smiled- a completely out of character smile, Arthur noticed. It was too small and not sunny bright like it should have been. It was more pained and slightly sad. Small. And the smile didn't spread to his eyes. But they shone like stars anyway. It seemed as though that shine never truly left, that fire of justice that always burned there.

"Yeah- it hurts like the dickens at first. Guess it's sorta ta be expected, I'm literally burning my skin an muscles away. But after a minute, it's just warm. It does it on its own. Pa said that it was a curse that ran through Mattie and I's blood. So it acts up on its own when I touch fire. But when I act up myself, it just sort of… creates itself." He said slowly, sitting completely on the floor. "Mattie knows more about the whole 'how it works'. He remembers what Pa says better than I do."

"Amazing." Allistor said, looking at the burning appendage. "And I suppose tha's why yer so exhausted after? Yer literally recoverin' from burnin an' growin' yer skin back?"

"I see. So it is your literal body burning, I wondered that. Far before I even knew it was you." Arthur said, leaning back against the wall beside his bed.

"What do you mean?" Vladimir asks.

"Well I wondered if it was a projection of your soul, or the actual taking of form. Despite the improbability that someone could project their soul and live to tell about it, I did wonder."

"Magic is strange like tha'." Allistor nodded. "Where's yer brother?"

"Restin'. He needs plenty o' it if he's gonna be gettin' up tomorra." Alfred said. "He's been usin' his power a bit more than I have lately." He leaned back, his hand suddenly becoming devoid of flame and then growing back its muscles with a sickening creak accompanied by a wet sound, followed by his layers of skin. All three witnesses made faces of disgust at the sight. "That first night ya got here… I was too tired after the trip ta do it myself, so Matthew saved me. Apparently Lil' Peter saw it." Alfred ticked off on one finger. "Then he used it ta search for ya in the flood. I found ya, but he had decided ta look on the other side of town. So he used it longer then. Then he rode around town some more ta find any last stragglers. So he's wiped out. Not ta mention the rain really takes it outta us."

"Then he will rest as long as need be. I'll make sure of it." Arthur said sternly. "As for you, since you seem to be on the mend, could you explain what on earth is going on? Even if it's just a brief description, it would be utmost helpful." Arthur was crossing his arms again, which came as a boding look to the younger man.

"Yeah, well. Seein' as yer not as foreign to the world o' the super-na-tar-ell, I suppose I don' havta start from the beginnin'." Alfred sighed. "That'll make things shorter.

Our Ma was, like I toldja, from England. Born and raised till about fifteen or sommat. She moved here with a promise fer land or some thing like that, but she met my Pa, Kwahu. He was a Red Skin from the Lakota tribe off of the land of Colorado. They got married when they was about twenty or so. She found out she was gonna have a kid soon. Pa said they were both Glad and all, but worried because of how the folks round here take ta the natives.

Pa and Ma lived in Colorado fer most of the pregnancy, people aint as bad about it up there. But then they were forced ta move ta Texas cuz o' the cold weather. So they moved up, but the wranglers didn't much like Ma and Pa bein' together. But since they had no place else ta go, they stayed. Pa took to the life of a wrangler like a horse does to Oats. He was a tough fella, and was able ta train horses like nobody ever seen in their lives.

Ma had the baby, well babies. They was twins. But both were stillbourn. Both Pa and she were real upset, but when Pa came back from diggin' the graves, They was both kicken and crying like proper babies do.

Pa was real worried, cuz he knew they was dead before he left. But he didn't say anythin' cuz Ma was so happy.

Couple o' years later, about when Me and Matt was two I think, Ma came ta Pa and told 'im she did sommat real bad. That she was sorry. He didn't know what ta think o' that, but she was dead the next day. Shot right in the head. Killed herself while he was out workin.

Pa raised us up till we were eight I think. Real good man, but the men still didn't like him none. One night, he was tellin' us stories and all, when these men barged in an' took him away. They shot 'im, right in the head. Just like Ma. Right in fron' o' me and Mattie. That's when we found out we was Riders. We panicked and turned Ghost on em- Like Mattie calls it- and ran away. Buried Pa somewhere out in the Desert and came here a few years later.

What we didn' know at the time was that if ya look into our eyes when in that form… and ya have a bad soul, it burns ya. Or well… it burns yer soul right outta your sockets. We didn' know that, but it turns out we killed the men that killed Pa. An' that's where the Ice breather's come in. I think we killed their Pa. So they swore revenge, and tha's where we are now. They found us."

Silence for a long time. The five in the room stared at each other, trying to sort out their thoughts.

Wait…. Five?

"Matthew! When did you get in here?!" Arthur asked, looking at the twin that sat just across from his brother.

"Just a moment ago. When Al was talkin' bout Ma and Pa in Texas. By the way, that stuff about the soul burnin? You've got a good one Arthur, I looked right inta yer eyes when ya first got here." Arthur nodded slowly, remembering the moment well.

"That long? Huh, I thought ya came in a bit later." Alfred shrugged. "By the way, that guys a Vampire."

"Really?" Matthew looked at him with interest. "Interesting. If you kill anyone, you won't know what happened." He said without even changing his tone.

"Yes sir." Vladimir mock saluted. "But now that we know, what do we do?"

"Well, we need to have a defense and offense plan." Matthew said. "But we need to clear up the town in order to be able to do that. And by clear up, I mean empty it out. Every person that an Ice Breather kills, is another soul in their stomach. It makes them more powerful."

"Is there anything that makes you more powerful?"

"I'd like to say we're already at maximum energy before anything even starts." Alfred said. "But we aren't sure that it's the case. We don't know much, but we have noticed that we're a bit more powerful on a new moon. Fire burns hotter."

"Really? So I suspect you're least powerful on the nights of full moon?" Arthur asked, folding his arms again in thought. "That's how some supernatural beings work. Like the werewolf… and Vampires." He pointed out. "Does that mean your curse is blood related?"

"Nah- not from what we could dig up. Pa clearly knew it was sommat Ma did. But we aint sure what that was yet. Mattie has an idea though." All eyes turned to the spokesperson's twin.

"Well…" Matthew started nervously. "I suspect Ma was so upset when we was stillbourn… I think she done made a deal with the devil." He explained. "I dunno if she knew what it would do, but it worked to bring us back. But I think…"

"You think the deal made you into Ghost Riders?" Allistor finished, looking at the two, who nodded.

"We aint positive, like Al said, but it's a hunch. And the only one that makes sense to us at the moment."

"But what about that soul burning thing? Can't you just look into their eyes and it be done?"

"No can do Ace, they aint got souls." Alfred answered the doctor with a sigh, rubbing his face with his gloved hand. "That'd make life a whole lot easier if we could."

"Well that's all well and good I suppose. But now… we need to get thinking about a plan to get rid of these Snowmen. Your fighting them tonight was exemplary, but we need a backup plan. How are you going to fight them if they come when you aren't ready? You both seem weakened at the given moment."

"Well I'll be fine by mornin'. Mattie might take till noon or so, but we'll be fine. Lucky fer us, Ice Breathers don' come out durin' the day. They're limited to night like us." Alfred explained, ending his sentence with a yawn. "So lets do the plannin' tomarraw- and sleep t'night." He said. "By the way, the steam in the upstairs was runnin' out. So I re-heated the water."

"Oh- thank you." Arthur nodded, deciding not to ask how he had done that. He was about to suggest he go lay down properly, but both of the brothers were asleep within seconds. Arthur frowned. "They'll hurt their necks like that." Standing (His foot had fallen asleep) he gimped over to them and pushed them down gently by the shoulders until they were resting peacefully on the ground. He turned to his brother and friend. "You had best get some rest too. There is a lot to do tomorrow."

"Sure thing little brother." Allistor yawned as well, laying back down on his blankets. Vladimir nodded, but made no move to lay down. Instead, he stood up and started towards the door.

"And where are you going?"

"To get something to eat. I do- after all- have limits to the energy I have as well as you do."

"Alright, just don't kill anyone."

"You know I would never, Arthur. Ah- and it's good to see you again. You haven't changed a bit."

"Neither have you." Arthur smiled with tease lining his every word. Vladimir scoffed, and then was gone.

* * *

The next day was full of cleaning up, stacking, rebuilding and organizing. Allistor found himself amazed at how well a leader Alfred was to the townspeople. They followed his every order happily, never asking questions unless it was about how to do something they weren't familiar with.

He was also amazed at how well his brother handled all of the sick and hurt. After the nights attack, many were left with small head colds or injury. His brother handled all of it well, bandaging and giving medicine to those who needed it quickly and efficiently. All at the same time, he would help rebuild and clean up the town in between patients. It actually made him a proud older brother.

Allistor found himself enjoying his own work. He had ended up helping two fellows, Gilbert and Matthias, lift and carry wood off to this small shop that had only barely been spared of the flood. It had taken hours to clear it up of debris and water damage, but the tools inside had gotten trapped in a niche along the wall that a man named Berwald, declared happy that he hadn't fixed like he had intended to. With most of these left, they were able to jump-start reconstruction.

The Sheriff's home had received the worst damage. It had been completely knocked over and flooded, basically destroyed down to its every single foundation board. Matthew's small home was just as bad, save for the floors were still present. (a major difference when it came down to it) but that seemed to it for total home destruction. All of the rest were just majorly water damaged and needed the floors replaced. With Tino and Berwald in charge of all this, the tasks went by seamlessly, leaving them to estimate that they would be a quarter of the way done by sunset. Since the other buildings wouldn't quite inhabitable yet, the people decided to sleep over in Arthur's home again. The idea had already, by noon, been agreed upon. Not one towns person was against it. And since many more blankets had been gathered, washed and dried, it would be far easier to keep warm.

The weather, however, had decided to put them in an even nastier spot. Just before high noon was to come around, clouds were already blocking out the sun. The grey sky was already spreading chill for the oncoming storm.

"Alright, get the covers inta Ace's place. Dry 'em the best ya can over the stoves and warm the place up before the chill can set in." Alfred instructed with as much calm as before the storm. "Get the women and children ta safety, Matt and I will go check on the dam, Gilbert, Ludwig, Allistor, come with us. Felix, Toris, make sure the horses are on high ground. We're gonna need 'em fer goin' ta the next town fer supplies tommorra. . Sadiq, get yer son and make sure we have food fer the next few days. If we don't, tell me what ya need so we can gather it later. We don't know how bad this one'll be, so we gotta be prepared fer anythin' and everythin'."

The townspeople set about doing as told. Allistor went back with the named men to go and check on the dam. Getting on a horse, a lovely brown and white painted breed with hazel eyes, leant by Toris and Felix, they rode hard and fast down the river toward the reservoir. Upon arrival, they were horrified to find that a large dent had been blasted through the top of the newly fixed dam. Allistor didn't have a doubt in his mind that it was from the Ice breathers.

"We've got about two hours tops before the storm gets bad. Let's get ta gettin!" Matthew called, leaping off of Avenger with vigor. Everyone followed suit and began gathering logs and thick branches, then wading through the high waters to pack them in and make sure of the sturdiness of the whole thing. The cold of the water was biting heavily to their skin and right to their bones. They felt the chill going down their spines, but pushed it aside in favor of fixing the dam in time for the storm.

After an hour of hard, driving work, the five men found themselves, once again, in a heavy rainfall that seemed to try and drown them. Their mouths and noses were all filling with water, suffocating them tremendously with its onslaught. Allistor struggled to lift log after log up to Matthew and Alfred, who placed them firmly on the top of the dam. Ludwig and Gilbert, (brothers that Allistor had learned on the trip over, were two huge fellows that were probably able to lift Avenger and Liberty over their head without a second thought) hunted around for said logs and branches. Luckily, there was a forest glade nearby that had been practically destroyed in the last storm. So finding them was the least of their problems.

"Alright! Last logs in!" Alfred shouted over the onslaught. "Get ta the horses! Let's get outta here!"

With multiple affirmatives sounding from the other four, Matthew and Alfred jumped down from the top of the five meter dam, landing loudly in the water, feet first. They swam to the shore, shivering from the cold by now, even their lips were blue, and leapt onto their horses.

"YAH!" Matthew yelled, getting their horses to take off in a scurried frenzy of beating hooves. Avenger and Liberty lead the way, clearing a path for the smaller horses as they went. The storm pounded against their skin and faces, blinding the riders. It forced them to rely solely on the sights of their horses. Allistor felt incredibly uncomfortable with this, because he had been informed, as they were leaving, that his horse was blind in one eye. Despite the fact that Matthew had assured him, saying that Alfred had trained her himself, he didn't feel comfortable. It was absolutely terrifying to know that his horse was unable to see… on one side he supposed. Not sure which side that was.

"Hey! Village ahead, don't get off track!" Alfred shouted. "Just keep Matt and I in sight! We'll make i-"

A huge explosion went off, throwing Alfred, Matthew, Allistor, Gilbert, and Ludwig off of their horses. Landing with a huge THUD, Allistor groaned, rolling to his side. He knew that for sure that he had broken or dislocated something. There was no doubt in his mind, which was a feeling that he was beginning to become accustomed to as of the last day. And not for good reason, he suspected. There was another un-doubt in his head… that the ice breathers were near.

Looking up, two tall figures in white were standing in the trees. Two horses floated nearby, their manes and tails drifting like thin bandages in the wind. The Ice breathers stared down, their purple eyes glowing like stars, unwavering in their ferocity.

"Run." Alfred groaned.

**Hello all! I tried to include fluff like some USUK fans asked of me, but failed. Sorry bout that. I find it difficult to write above a sort of 'caring brothers' sort of relationship, but ya know... But I did try to satisfy. But I did do that because YOU GUYS ROCK. You left a ton of reviews! So I did my best to write as fast as I could! I kind of even skipped over writing my other story... (BTW They left almost no reviews so we can just haha to them) The more reviews I get the more I just wanna write! So I thank you so much! **


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